


Teach Me How to Love You Right

by isabelbarret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-08 17:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10391682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabelbarret/pseuds/isabelbarret
Summary: Steves spent his whole life wishing he'd be able to decide his own fate but when a foreign army invades and Steve finds himself getting sold into a marriage with a complete stranger that wish comes to an end. Steve can only hope that his life being Bucky's Barnes mate will be better then any other life he could have had.





	1. Chapter 1

Steves well aware that soon the castle will be seized. It has been a long time coming and the only ones who haven’t though so are those too blinded by hope, who’ve become ignorant. 

The days grow shorter as the world starts to become colder and colder and as the Barnes army grows ever closer. They’ve already taken too long, invading from the northern border meant even at a slow pace they would have reached the castle in two weeks time but instead a whole month has passed and only now they draw in close.

The only logical belief is that the Barnes army is looking to preserve the land, Steve knows one of the only valuable things Mullingar posses is it’s farm land and if those are destroyed by invading armies than they will be getting little of worth from their lengthy invasion.

Most of the other nobles have already fled south, a foolish thing for the it’s a small kingdom and they could all be easily reached in their southern residences within a week time. 

He’s sitting in the library with his mother, moaning and groaning about how useless he feels. At firsts his mother had tried to comfort him but at this point she’s mostly ignoring him in favor of her book. 

“I have magic, I could do something instead of being imprisoned in this castle simply waiting for the inevitable,” Steve says sighing dramatically for the hundredth time. 

“We can’t just send you off to battle Steve,” his mother says always the voice of reason, “you know that just isn’t possible.”

“If I was an alpha you would happily send me off to fight,” Steve says stubbornly, looking at the sketch he’s been working on with a sour expression. It looks nothing like his mother and he decided to turn to a different page. 

His mother’s just about to give a retort when the door gets thrown open, standing is one of his father's advisors, Lord Hodge. He’s one of the few lords who didn’t flee as soon as the Barnes army crossed their borders. 

He also happens to be the uncle of Thomas Hodge who in a year's time is supposed to be marrying Steve, though due to the state of their kingdom that is seeming increasingly unlikely. 

“Your majesty, Prince Steve, I’m afraid I’ve just received some very bad news,” Lord Hodge says giving a customary bow as he speaks.  

“Please continue,” Sarah says setting her book down in her lap. 

“I’ve just received news that my nephew Thomas succumbed to his injuries from the battle and has passed away,” Steve sits up straight and he hears his mother take a sharp intake of breath. They’d been told earlier that Thomas has been injured trying to defend the northern border over a month ago but without any other news reaching them Steve had assumed he was getting better.

Steve thinks he should be sad, he is a little though not in the way he feels he should be. Not like someone should mourn the person that they are engaged too. Steve never loved Thomas, doubted he could ever come to feel more than him then one feels for a friend.

Thomas was nearly ten years older than him, and like most of the alpha’s around the palace his greatest accomplishment was what he achieved in the military. Steve was always aware that Thomas was much more interested in his statues as a prince then in anything Steve has to say. 

“I assume you’ve already told my husband,” Sarah says. She’s more diplomatic than anyone Steve known, and though she never was a fan of Thomas she certainly wasn’t going to let Lord Hodge know that. 

“Yes,” Lord Hodge says, “I’ve put forward my own son’s name, with the current situation I feel as though it’s pertinent to consider a new match.” 

Sarah frowns but says nothing, quickly dismissing Lord Hodge. Steve’s stomach feels like it’s dropped to the floor, he feels vaguely nauseous about all of it. 

“Ma,” Steve says grabbing at her, “I won’t marry him, you can’t make me marry him.” 

Steve was always well aware that Thomas would do whatever Steve’s father wanted, his only consolation was that Thomas had never been outright cruel to him. That and the fact he always assumed he’d be able to get out of the marriage. Lord Hodges son on the other hand has never shown Steve any respect, belittling him not only for being an omega but for being one that possesses magic. 

He would also do his father's bidding just as happily, though with much less of a conscious than Thomas ever possessed. 

“There's not going to be any wedding,” his mother says making it sound completely finial, “and especially not to Lord Hodge’s son, not matter what your father thinks we're not just going to marry you off to anyone.” 

“Fathers going to be furious,” Steve murmurs. He’s gone against his father more than once and faced the full power of his anger. 

His mother laughs, “he can’t always get what he wants,” Sarah turns back to her book and continues reading. 

  
  


***

 

Steve's in the middle practicing levitating books carefully into the air before setting them in alphabetical order as Dr. Erskine instruction when his father burst into the room. All the books fall to the ground in a loud clatter, he’s always been bad keeping his energy focused when someone surprises him. 

“Your mother just told me that the two of you decided that your wouldn’t be marrying Lord Hodge’s son, going against my directions,” his father says coming to stand next to Steve, being this close to his father always reminds Steve how much short he is. 

Steve sets him with a defiant stare, “I’ve made my decision and I plan to stick with it. I have no intention of marrying anyone in the near future.” 

“Steven I’m only trying to protect you,” he sets his father with an unimpressed look, “do you known what happened to omega royalty when a foreign army comes in. If King Barnes is honorable at all he may leave you be if you're married.” 

He frown and takes a step back from his father getting out of his overbearing shadow, “that’s not good enough. I’ve already made my mind up. I refuse to let you sell me off to the highest bidder.” 

He’s not prepared for his father to reach forward and roughly grab him by the arm, “you’ll be getting married if I have to drag you to the ceremony myself.” 

Steves just about to respond with all the energy he posses when his father pulls back his hand, crying out loudly in pain. He brings his hand close to his chest, clutching it tightly and shooting Steve a look that is filled with pure fury. 

“You burned me you little witch!” his father shouts, “I should let the Barnes army take you! a brat like you deserves none of my forgiveness.” 

His father leaves and Steve feels a wave of relief hit him and slowly the tension leaks out of his muscles. It’s not the first time he’s been under the full force of his father's anger but it still leaves him shaking. 

Steve feels a comforting arm wrap around his shoulders. Dr. Erskine has always been more of a parent to him than his real father who as soon as Steve had his first heat couldn’t bare to even be around him. 

Dr. Erskine was the one who trained him in magic, realised his true potential and never cared that he was an omega. His mother was the one who taught him politics knowing that he couldn’t just leave diplomacy to the alpha’s. 

“I won’t marry unless I feel it is time,” Steve says more to himself than to anyone else. Dr. Erskine is well versed in the subject of Steve's marriageability. 

“No matter what your father says you won’t have time for a wedding anyways. Anyone with eyes can see that the Barnes army will be here within the next day or so,” Dr. Erskine says to him, “I have something I wish to give to you.” 

Steve nods and watches as Dr. Erskine goes through the leather satchel he always carried around with him. He pulls out a large leather bound book, with slightly fades gold embossing for the title. 

He passes the book over to Steve who's surprised at how the light the book it compared to its size. He runs his fingers carefully over the cover before opening the book up to it’s first page.

“ _ A Encyclopedia of All Magic Known to the Vale _ ,” Steve reads allowed, “Dr. Erskine I can’t take this.” 

“It was my fathers who gave it to me and now I must give it to you,” Dr. Erskine says giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “you are the strongest mage I have ever known Steven. If anyone will cherish this book the way it deserves, I know that person will be you.” 

Steve tries to hand the book back but Dr. Erskine just laughs, “we can wait, I haven’t yet even completed my training. It’s not customary for a mage in training to receive such an important gift.” 

“Steven, though I wish we had more time our training together is done,” he says trying to give Steve a reassuring smile, “I can’t teach you all that you need to know but I hope this book will be able to.” 

He feels as though he’s on the edge of tears and tries his best to bite them down, “we still have more time.” 

He’s surprised when he gets wrapped in a tight hug, getting rocked gently back and forth like a child. Dr. Erskine doesn’t have to say anything, they both know as soon as the Barnes army rolls in their training will come to an end. It will most likely finally be time to put his talent with magic to good use. 

Though his skin hums with the possibility of truly letting his magic loose he knows what that entails. His life as he knows is coming to a close. 

“Dr. Erskine,” Steve says slowly, “what is it like outside of the Vale?” 

Steve has never left the Vale, the central countries that inhabit the deep valley where his own kingdom, Mullingar, rests. They are all very much the same, built upon agriculture with little industry outside of that. Magic is very common in the Vale and yet Steve’s heard of places were possessing even a little bit of magic is viewed as a commodity. 

“Some aspects are very different. I have never been to a place with so much magic before I came here. Some areas are starved for mages like you,” he says, “people are very much the same everywhere. There is good people and those are those who are greedy and corrupt. Your magic will serve you well outside of the Vale.” 

In many ways Steve's magic has never served him well, he’s too strong and it makes most alpha’s uncomfortable. Omega’s aren’t supposed to trained as mages, those who are get considered witches, which meant to be more of derogatory term though it’s never really bothered Steve. A place were omega’s with magic are appreciated sounds more appealing day by day. 

“Is it wrong that some part of me wants to leave here?” 

Dr. Erskine laughs, “it’s natural for children to want to leave home eventually, it’s how and why you leave that will truly matter.” 

Steve imagines briefly a life far away from here, were he’s allowed to make his own decisions, choose who he wanted to marry. Steve sighs, he knows daydreaming about the impossible doesn’t do anyone any good. 

“Let's get back to stacking the book,” Dr. Erskine says, “I think you almost had them.” 

Steve nods and slowly levitates on of the books into the air. 

  
***  
  


 

He’s sitting beside his mother in her drawing room, little writing desk pulled up in front of her, when the Captain of the guard comes into the room. He’s an older man with a large mustache and walks like he always has somewhere very important to be. Steve supposes he probably does. 

He gives a quick bow before he begins speaking, “the Barnes army has the castle surrounded your highness. The king has suggested that it may be best if for you and the prince to move into the blue room for it’s at the central most point of the castle.” 

“Are they going to attack tonight?” Steve asks. Night fell several hours ago yet it seems the Barnes used the cover of darkness to advance closer to the castle. 

“We are not sure yet, we believe they may think it’s a tactical advantage to attack under the cover of darkness.” 

His mother grips onto Steve's arm and starts pulling him towards the blue room in a way that suggests she expects a struggle. Rightly so for as soon as Steve realises what's going to he tries to wiggle out from under her grip. 

“You have to go let me fight,” Steve says trying to tug from her grip with little result, “I’m one of the best mages in the castle, I’ll be able to help. Please, Ma! You have to let me.” 

She doesn’t respond until they're safely in the blue room where she finally lets him out of her grip, “I know that right now war might seem wonderful but this isn’t going to be a good fight.”   
“I just want to help,” Steve says quietly, “I just want to be able to do something.” 

His mother pulls him into a tight hug, clutching him close to her. He’s never seen his mother look afraid before, she’s always been the rock that keeps him life together. Now though she looks fearful at the prospects of what may happen. 

“You don’t think we're going to win?” Steve says and he feels his mother's sharp intake of breath, “you think the Barnes army is going to seize the castle.” 

“We’ve never had a very strong army,” his mother wraps his face in her hands, “I need you to do something for me darling. I need you to remember I’ve everything I’ve taught you. Who are our allies, who we trade with, who we've married with, who we've fought with. People are going to underestimate you and I know you're going to prove them wrong.” 

For years they’ve been building up to this, his mother taught him everything he would ever need. His mother had taken up his education as soon as his father learned that Steve wouldn’t be his much desired alpha son and she had made it more rigorous than it would ever be for someone else. She was well aware that as an omega he would constantly have to prove himself to others. 

She had taught him how to be a ruler, how to be in charge without anyone realising. How to make alliances, how to tell if someone is trustworthy or not. 

That night they hear from the inside of the castle as it gets seized, it mostly an non violent affair, there was never a chance that they could stand strong against the Barnes army so they don’t even try. They don’t necessarily welcome them in with open arms but they also know that resistance will only lead to a worse outcome. 

They know that everything's truly come to an end when Steve's father comes into the room, looking tired and defeated. It’s nearly morning at this point, the sun just starting to edge over the horizon. 

There's two men standing by his side, each with the Barnes symbol in the front of their armor. He looks stiff and a little shell shocked. 

“Joseph?” his mother murmured standing up, “whats happened?” 

“They’ve taken over the castle,” he says sitting down heavily, “I offered it to him in turn for a more favorable arrangement for both of us.” 

His mother carefully masks any concern or fear she may be feeling, “what kind of arrangement are you thinking of?” 

Steve swears he sees his father glance at him out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he heard the Barnes army had come through their northern border he knew there was no way any of this could turn out well for him. While some might assume he’s naive Steve well aware of the political aspects of war. 

He’s now become one of the many objects his father can offer up to King Barnes in turn for a little bit of whatever would keep the peace. 

They only sit for a few minutes before guards come and collect his father. Steve can tell that his mother wants to accompany him but he leaves without even giving them a second glance. Steve not sure but his father seems ashamed by everything that's happening. 

They leave for an hour at most, mid way though his mother starts pacing the room, sitting down and pretending she’s fine before pacing again. 

“Ma,” Steve says quietly, “what do you think he’s going to give them.”

He’s sure she can hear the real question in his voice about whether his own father would hand over him. 

“I don’t know,” he can tell she’s putting on a brave face for his sake, “most likely whatever they want. We’re not really in a position to be asking for things.”

“What if he wants us executed,” Steve wraps his arms tight around himself. He knows that King Barnes is known for being a civil leader if not a little power hungry. Disposing of the leaders he just overthrew isn’t a completely illogical idea especially if they want to unite their land under Barnes crown. “I won’t let him, I can use my magic! We can escape!”

“Keep your voice down,” his mother hisses as she glances at where he’s sure there's guards stationed outside their door, “I doubt we will be executed, it would only give the people something to rally behind. It’s more likely they’ll lock us up in the castle, keep us in here like it's our prison.”

Steve pulls his knees up to his chest and presses his face against them, squeezing his eyes shut. He always tries to act strong but Steve gets scared like everyone else and right now he’s terrified. Now that the reality of the situation has hit him Steves willingness to fight has been tampered, like he wants to roll up in bed and pull the covers over his head like he’s a little kid. 

“Oh Steve,” his mother wraps him in her arms and presses a kiss to his forehead, “I don’t know how yet, but everythings going to work itself out.”

“You don’t know that,” Steve says stubbornly, “there going to take me away aren't they, from you, from my home.”

His mother brushes his hair out of his face, something she always would do when he was sick as a kid. It used to be one of the only way to fall asleep when his chest felt like like it was on fire. 

The door opens to reveal two soldiers dressed in intricate metal armour. Their tall with cold eyes and Steve can’t help but admit he’s intimidated. Their different than most of the alpha’s Steve's been around, even though he’s met plenty in the army these alphas have weapons and actually look like they’d know what to do with them. 

“Come with us,” one of the guards says and both Steve and his mother stand up.

“Just the prince,” the other guard says, “King George would like to speak with him.”

Steves sure he look terrified as his mother gives him his shoulder a comforting squeeze. He follows the guards out of the room and as soon as doors shut behind him the guards grub him, forcing his arms tight against his body. 

He cries out at once, kicking his legs and trying to hit anything he can. The guards seem immune to his struggles, only showing a reaction when he head buts one of their colar bones. It takes him a minute to realise whats happening, as the attach heavy gold bracelets to his wrists. It feels like he’s been kicked in the stomach and he bends over at the sudden feeling of being light headed. 

“No! You can’t do this,” Steve shouts as they start to drag him down the corridor, “you can’t take it away.”

The bracelets are magic suppressors, caring spells of their own, heavy old magic that they hardly practice in the Vale anymore. Combining magic with metal work has always been more popular in the mountains where all the mine and ores are. 

The fact that the guards have these means that King Barnes must be aware of his magic, no matter how much of a secret his father tried to keep it he always knew that one day it would get out. The spells on the bracelets are heavy too, meaning that he must also be aware of how much power Steve has; how much training. 

Steve struggles the whole until they finally arrive at his father's private study. It’s one of the nicest rooms in the castle, well decorated with old furniture that's been carefully passed down and tapestries that were made before their family even came into power. The room now looks odd without his father in it, something very clearly seems to be missing. 

King George is sitting in his father's chair, looking all too casual. He’s dressed in an intricate uniform with tassels and more buttons than could really be necessary. Steves never seen something so detailed, with some much gold and silver and careful embroidery. 

“Sit down Steven,” he wants to rebel against the command but the soldiers push him down into a seat across from King George and he’s already learned that fighting against them does nothing. 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute though that minute seems to stretch on and on. King George watchs him and Steve watches him right back, trying not to be unsettled by his calculating gaze. 

“You know what was the first thing your father offered to me; you,” he says it with a light laugh, “as though I’d want someone who's practically a child warming my bed.”

Steve tries not to cringe though he can’t say he’s surprised that his father offered him up so easily. Ever since his first heat his father's seen him as more of an object than his own son. The heir to his throne. 

“A hundred years ago my family used to have magic, strong magic. We forgot though, over time that magic is something you have to carefully breed into your family again and again. It’s something you have to colitiviate-” 

“You want my magic,” Steve knows he probably should refrain from interrupting the person who is deciding his fate. He can’t help it though, Steve’s almost always itching for a fight. 

“I have a son, James, one day he’s going to be king,” he says it as though Steve didn’t even speak at all, “I’m offering that you would become his mate, bring magic back into my family. Especially if your magic is as strong as your father seemed to have suggested.” 

Steve’s surprised to hear that his father was the one to say that he had magic and that it’s strong. He’s always done anything possible to deny that Steve has magic of any sorts. 

“What if I say no?” Steve questions. 

“If you agree your parents can keep their crown, under influence from my advisors of course. You would serve as a diplomat, speaking in favor of Mullingar. If you say no I don’t see any reason why your parents should be provided any leeway by me.”

Steve feels like the airs been punched out of him but he tries not to show it. Fiddles with his nails and tries to catch his breath, think rationally and breath slowly. 

“I need to think about it,” Steve says though there's really not anything to think about. He just wants to tell him mom, he just wants a little more time with her. 

“We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning,” King George motioned to the soldier who once again grab Steve, pulling him from the chair, “you have three hours to decide before I’ll make a decision for you.”

Steve nods his head solemnly though he’s sure they both know that Steve's already made his mind up. 

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s not about King George! What he said isn’t why I have to leave.” Steve knows that maybe that's not entirely true, it was King George's words that made it feel like there's a pit in his stomach. It was his father that did all the damage,  
> “Father offered me to King George as a whore. I can’t be here any longer knowing that that's all he thinks of me.”

His mother wraps him in a tight hug as soon as the soldiers thrust him back in the room. She clutched his wrist close to her chest, where the bracelets suppressing his magic still rest. She kissed his hands as though they’ve been injured, anyone without magic would be unable to understand but she can see that with those bracelets on his hands feel as though the bone have been broken.

Steve’s father is nowhere to be seen which is more of a relief than anything else. After what King George told him he never wants to see his father again. Can’t even bear the idea of looking at him ever again.

“What did he tell you?” his mother murmurs quietly, lovingly curling her fingers through his hair.  

Steve takes a deep, almost unsteady breath, “He told me that if I married his son you’d be able to continue running the country, under his influence, but you and father would keep the crown.”

“Did you agree?  
“I haven’t yet but I’m going to-”

“Steven-” his mother pleaded but he just shakes his head in response.

“You have to let me do this, please?” Steve says grasping at her cloths with increasing anxiety, “Let me do this for you, I have to - I can’t stay here any longer.”

His mother frowns as fury slowly consumes her expression, “Did he threaten you? He has no right to do that to you, any threats he wants to make towards us should be told to your father - not you!”

“It’s not about King George! What he said isn’t why I have to leave.” Steve knows that maybe that's not entirely true, it was King George's words that made it feel like there's a pit in his stomach. It was his father that did all the damage, “Father offered me to King George as a whore. I can’t be here any longer knowing that that's all he thinks of me.”

For a second his mother looks broken and she wraps Steve in a tight hug, tucking his face right up against her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, I wish I could change him back to who he was when I married him. I wish I could make him a better father.”

“I don’t need a better father,” Steve says, “I’ve had the best mother anyone could ask for.”

His mother gives a little laugh and there's tears in her eyes that they both chose to ignore them, “You're to sweet and charming and clever. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to write you every day if they let me,” Steve says stubbornly, “even if they don’t let, I’ll smuggle letters out if I have to.”

“My brave son,” she says with a wide smile, “I don’t know how you turned out so good.”

“He said that their heading out first thing tomorrow morning,” Steve can’t believe that he only has hours left with her. He knows that once he leaves there's a very large chance that he will never see his mom again,

or his home.

Steve tells the soldiers to inform King George that he’s made his decision. In return, they bring him, and his mother, to his chambers and tell him he’s allowed to bring one trunkful worth of things with him along with a small travel satchel.

His mother helps him pack, carefully tucking books and art supplies along with a few pieces of clothing together in a way that uses the space in the best possible way. Steve makes sure to carefully wrap the expensive colored pencils that his mother gave him for his sixteenth birthday in a piece of fabric before tucking them against the side of Dr. Perkins's book.

They get brought both lunch and dinner and Steve's father still hasn’t made an appearance which is more of a relief than anything. Steves not completely sure that he’d able to look at his father and not punch him in the face.

Steve hasn’t slept in bed with his mom since he was a little kid but now he curls in around her, laying his head against her chest and feeling her steady breathing.

“You know, you’ve met King George’s son before, when you were a child probably no more than four or five,” Steve sits up in surprise. He has no memory of this, “They stayed at the castle for a few days. He was a charming boy, very handsome too. He was about ten at the time so he must be five years older than you.”

 Steve makes a low humming noise in consideration. While he knows quite a bit about King George and their industry and trade along, with their relationship with other countries, he doesn’t know much about the Barnes family.

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. I know you never really wanted to be married to Thomas. Maybe it can be different now,” his mother had never been under any sort of allusion that he loved Thomas, or ever would.

Arranged marriages often don’t lead to love, but Steve could only hope that maybe his could. If not love then maybe mutual respect and trust, that would be just as good.

“Maybe it could work, I mean you did say that he was handsome,” Steve says with a smile.

“I loved your father when we first got married, he was practically a war hero and very handsome,” she says that last bit with a little laugh. Steve’s never heard her talk about her and his father when they were young. “I practically begged my father to let me marry him. Those year when we are first married are some of the best memories I have.”

Steve sits up brows furrowing slightly, “I don't get why you're telling me all of this.”

He can only assume that she’s trying to win back his father appeal in his eyes, remind of him of better time. Steve can’t remember a time when his father wasn’t either needlessly cruel or dismissive towards him.

“Keep your heart open, no matter how scary it might seem. I know that it will be worth it,” his mom promises.

Steve lays back down, listening to him mom's slow steady breathing before finally drifting off to sleep.

  


***

 

 

He wakes to his mom gently shaking him. He still feels startled though, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes and sitting up.

“Ma? Whats going on?” Steve murmurs brain feeling muddled up from sleep.

“It’s time to get up and get dressed, you have to leave soon,” she helps him stand up, shuffling out of his pajama and into comfortable clothes. His whole body feels numb as his mother wraps his warmest jacket on him, the Roger family crest is embroidered on the arm.

She packs a small satchel of things to carry with him, a few gold coins, a extra change of clothes, and a small loaf of bread. He has to stop her from fussing over him, trying to get him to put on yet another jacket, or an extra pair of socks.

Before long a soldier came to collect him. His body feels heavy, and not just because of the bracelets suppressing his magic. Steve feels exhausted and weak, and he finds himself leaning against his mom as they walk down the hallway.

The courtyard is crowded with soldiers and horses, and Steve finds himself already starting to feel overwhelmed. He spots King George approaching, wearing the same ornate outfit as the day before, but he’s surprised to see his own father standing beside him.

“Good morning Steven,” King George seems way to happy for someone awake so early in the morning. “I hope you're wearing comfortable clothes, for we’ll be riding most of the day. I’m hoping to return home within the next two weeks.”

His father doesn’t even give him a chance to respond before talking, “Would you mind if I talked with my son for a moment.”

King George nods, “Go on, we're leaving soon so don’t take too long.”

His father grabs him by the shoulder and practically drags him over to a less crowded area of the courtyard. Steve pulls his arm free before scowling at his father and folding his arms protectively over his chest.

“I don’t want to talk to you! Not after what you did,” Steve hisses, “don’t think for a single second that I’m doing this for you. I’m doing this for Ma.”

His father scoffs but Steve can tell that he’s anxious and trying to cover it, “I don’t care for your petty words Steven, I want to make sure you understand what your duty is now.”

Steve almost can’t believe him. Acting like what he did before hardly even mattered! “Do you not remember offering me as a whore? Your own child?”

“As though what you're doing is so much better now,” his father spits out, “you’ll be warming some prince’s bed and I’m sure who ever else requests it of you. Don’t blame me for what you’ve brought on yourself.”

He’s not sure what he ever did to deserve his father hate besides being an omega. He’s always tried to be the best son possible, and in return he only ever got his father's disapproval. Steve honestly can’t understand how he became so judgemental.

“Ma deserves someone better than you,” Steve says while pulling away from him, “I truly hope I don’t ever have to see you again.”

Steve doesn’t leave time for his father to respond, leaving without a second glance behind him, sure that his father has an enraged expression. Instead he focuses on his mother, who pulls him into a tight hug.

“Promise me you’ll be good, try not to get into too many fights,” his mother says.

“I will try not to make promises I can’t keep,” Steve tries to keep his tone light but he can already feel the tears starting to well up in his eyes.

His mother lets out a tight breath before setting him with a surprisingly steady look, “We're going to see each other again, alright. I don’t know when but we're going to.”

“I love you Ma,” Steve voice brakes at the end, as he tried to wipe a tear away before it could run down his cheek.

She presses a careful kiss to the center of his forehead, “I love you too.”

“It’s time to go,” King George says interrupting his and his mother's embrace, “your going to be riding with Lady Natasha.”

He motions over to a redhead sitting on a white horse who is dressed in a intercit military uniform, not that much different from King George's. The only noticeable difference is that the embroidery of the arm doesn’t depict that for the house of Barnes, but symbols he can’t quite decipher.  

Steve lets out a squeak in surprise when a soldier comes up behind him and lifts him up onto the back of the horse. He wraps his arms around Natasha in panic, so he doesn’t go sliding off the back like some sort of child.

He’s surprised when he realises that she has the sweat smell of an omega. She seems intimidating and he’s never known omega’s who’v serve in the military. She’s doesn't seem to be much taller than him, though it’s hard to tell when they're both sitting.

Steve feels the panic curl up within him, reaching frantically for his mother. He reaches down and she grasps at her hand, “Ma-”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” she says giving his hand a tight squeeze and a reassuring smile.

Steve doesn’t want to let go but the courtyard is starting to empty out, and the soldiers were getting onto their horses and riding out. Steve wipes away his tears not wanting anyone else to see him cry.

“Steve, you're going to have to let go,” his mom whispers and Steve finds himself unable to do anything but let his hand go limp. The horse starts slowly moving forward under Natasha’s command. At that moment, all Steve wants in the world is to never have to leave home.

 

***

 

He doesn’t talk the entire day, riding silently on the back of the horse alongside Natasha. She doesn’t try to make conversation with him either. Which came as a relief, he really doesn’t have anything to say to her.

They finally stop close to dusk. The soldiers ahead of them have already set up tent, and Natasha leads him to one close to the edge of the group. Steve can only assume that there's some magic involved because the tents seems much larger from the inside than from the outside.

There's two mats on the ground and Natasha sets her stuff on top of one and Steve takes the other. He sits down on it, muscles tired from the long day of riding. He quickly curls up on the mat and turns away from Natasha.

He feels something hit against his back and turns around in a flash to find an apple and piece of bread. Steve scowls, though the growling in his stomach is growing increasingly hard to ignore.

“If you're done moping around, you should eat something,” she says taking a bite from the bright red apple, “you're too skinny.”

“I’m not skinny,” Steve mumbled while sticking some of the bread in his mouth, “and I'm not mopping.”  

They eat in silence and Steve watchs her carefully. She’s pretty and elegant in a slippery sort of way Steve's not familiar with. She’s unlike most of the omega’s he’s known, who are purposely skinny with their sunken in cheek and wispy frames.

“I didn’t know omega’s were allowed to serve in the army?” Steve says fiddling with his jacket which he’s carefully folded in his lap.

She gives him a smile that can’t be described as anything other than wolflike, “Officially I’m an ambassador representing my province, but in the mountains, they teach all of us how to fight, no sense in wasting perfectly good warriors.”

“What are the mountains like?” Steve finds himself asking. He’s never been out of the Vale, never seen anything larger than the rolling hills, that seem to stretch on and on.

She seems slightly taken back by his question, “Sort of like an empty field, where you think it’ll never end. It’s cold in the mountains, barren and nearly sterile. Everything looks soft though, when it's covered by a layer of snow.”

“I’ve never seen snow, or the mountains or the ocean or a dessert,” for some reason Steve finds himself laughing halfway into total hysterics, “I feel like I haven’t seen anything at all.”

“If you’d like, I can take you to see some of those things,” Natasha says giving him a look that seems almost fond.

The idea sounds nice, a pleasant little day dream he can occupy himself with. It’s impossible, for soon he’ll be married, and his opportunity to freely travel the world as he wishes will be over before it began.

He lays down on his mat and watches as Natasha lights several lamps hanging from the tent ceiling. Without the suppression bracelets he’d would have been able to light the candles with his magic in a matter of seconds but instead he watches as it takes long minutes.

She comes and sits down on her mat, pulling a book from her satchel and opening it up. Steve pulls out his sketchbook and does a quick sketch of her, shading in her dark red and the slope of her cheekbones.

“Can I see?” she asks and Steve passes her the sketchbook, and she makes a pleased noise in response, “This is good.”

“Thanks,” Steve blushes slightly as she passes the sketchbook back over to him, “Would you like the drawing?”

She nods and Steve carefully rips it from his book, he doesn’t usually like to rip pages out, but it's a special circumstance. She takes the drawing and slides it into her book for safekeeping.

Outside the sound of soldiers walking and talking, more rambunctious after a few drinks, makes the tent feel like a safe haven. He pulls the thick woolen blankets up around his ears and hopes sleep will come. Steve finally falls asleep to the sound of Natasha turning the pages of her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments/kudos for the first chapter. This and the next chapter are both going to be on the shorter side and then they are going back to longer length. Also thanks to Low_Key_nerdy for editing this chapter! Comments/kudos/critics are always welcomes and appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wants desperately to be home, to hug his mother close and pretend this is all some sick dream. Go back a time when he could use his magic somewhat freely and was surrounded by people he knew all his life.

Three long days of riding have left Steve's entire body sore. Sliding off the horse at the end of each day, his knees almost going out from under him, and it’s Natasha’s steady grip on his shoulder that keeps him up. She, on the other hand, looks completely unaffected by their riding. 

They head to their tent, which is already set up. Instead of pulling out some food, like they’ve done every night so far, Natasha goes to her trunk, smaller than Steve’s, but unlike his, there maybe be some magic involved in its workings. She pulls out a stack of what appear to be men's clothing, in a size too big for her or Steve.

If she notices his quizzical expression she says nothing. Instead she sets the clothes down along with a blanket in the center of the tent, and goes and sits on her mat. They wait for several long minutes, and Steve almost expects something to jump out from the pile. 

Instead a falcon comes flying into the tent, and causes Steve to let out a yelp in surprise. Natasha, on the other hand, looks completely undisturbed by the fact that there's a bird in their tent. 

Except it’s no longer a bird, instead it's a completly naked man who takes the blanket from the pile and wraps it around himself. Steve throws his hands up to cover his eyes, not sure who he’s sparing from embarrassment. 

There’s the shuffling of fabric and when Steve uncovers his eyes the man's fully dressed, including a red jacket with fine embroidery and more buttons than necessary. He gives Steve a smile that seems sheepish and sits down on the mat beside Natasha. 

“I’m Sam,” he says as Natasha tosses them each some bread and and an apple which Sam starts eating so fast he can’t be chewing. 

“Your a shifter,” Steve said still stunned, “I've never met a shifter before.”

“They’re more common out West,” he replies. “I’ve heard you're quite the mage yourself.”

“I used to be…” Steve holds up his wrists to show the bracelets and shakes them slightly, “I guess I’m taking a bit of a brake right now.” 

Sam frowns, not actually happy to see a fellow mage have their magic caged up like that. “They shouldn’t be able to do that to you, do they understand how damaging it is to a mage to have their magic caged up like that?” 

“I’m pretty sure they can do whatever they want,” Steve folds his body together and rests his chin on his sharp knees. It's been getting colder, not only as winter starts to settle in, but as they head further north. Steve finds himself piling on new layers every morning, but somehow he’s still shivering by the end of the day. 

“I’ve heard you're going to be marrying the prince,” Sam says in an almost teasing tone, as though their long time friends gossiping about their newest crush. 

“Yes,” Steve says, “do you know him?” 

He’s already asked Natasha the same question a few days earlier. She had given him an unreadable look over her shoulder before shrugging and going back to looking straight ahead. Steve had realised quickly that bothering her about it wouldn’t get him a satisfying answer. 

“I do, but not very well,” Sam replies. “Certainly not as well as Natasha.” 

Steve sends her an angry look which she simply turns her nose up at. Sam must see their little exchange because he lets out a snort of laughter. 

“I can’t tell you anything that you won't find out soon enough for yourself,” Natasha claims already looking vaguely disinterested. 

Steve sighs, “I know that, but I still want to know everything I can now.”

For as little as he cared for Thomas, he always knew him. While he was growing up Thomas had always been there,  _ especially _ after their engagement became official. Steve’s not quite sure how to deal with being engaged to someone he doesn’t know at all. 

“He’s better than most alphas” Natasha says. “Most of the time he’s not a total asshole.” 

Hearing another omga say that to him carries more weight than if it had come from anyone else. He can remember his father telling him how good of a man Thomas was. Steve was fourteen at the time and the idea of getting married seemed vague and distant. Even then his father’s opinion hadn’t carried any real weight of it’s own. 

“A good man,” Steve says almost solemnly. “ Is considered quite the the war hero because of the war in the North.”

Steve’s mother had always seen the importance of keeping up with current events, even ones in far away places. He remembers her talking about how in the Barnes Kingdom some people from the mountains had rebelled, trying to start their own republic. It had been short lived, and without much support, but apparently it was extremely violent.

“Yes, he led his own force. They were called the Howling Commandos,” Sam says. 

Steve snorts at the name before turning to Natasha. He knows she’s from the North, the mountains, and a diplomat of sort from there too. Steve frowns, “Did you you fight in the rebellion?”

“Sort of,” she says, and then doesn’t elaborate any further. From what Steve can gather, it might mean Natasha wasn’t fighting in favor of the Barnes’. 

They talk a little longer with Sam until it grows late and he heads to his own tent. He’s exhausted from being in bird form for almost three days, and by the time he stumbles from their tent, he’s nearly half asleep. 

Steve lays down as Natasha goes around the tent and extinguishes the candles, giving the room over to the harsh shadows. Steve presses his face into his mat and pulls his blankets up so they cover him from head to toe. 

“Natasha,” Steve says quietly as she lays down on her own mat, “is Prince James … is he, umm-”

“Attractive?” Natasha says with a light laugh, and Steve knows he's blushing. “He’s very attractive, quite handsome.”

Steve buries his face even deeper into the blankets and lets a small pleased smile consume his face. He rubs the bracelets absentmindedly wondering if one day he won't have to wear them anymore, hoping he’ll be able to practice magic freely. Also, a small part of him wonders if maybe he’ll fall in love.

 

***

 

Steve can tell the two alphas are watching him and Natasha. They’re eating outside, instead of in their tent, sitting in a unoccupied area of grass. It’s surprisingly warm out with only a slight chill, and it's nothing his jacket can’t protect him against. 

Sam’s sitting with him, stretching out his muscles and bones from a whole day of being in falcon form. He flops down on his back and stretches out, so his back cracks in an almost unpleasant way. 

Out of the corner of his eye Steve watches the two alphas looking over at him, their gaze feels violating in a way Steve’s all too familiar with. He nudges at Natasha who follows his gaze to the two alpha’s. Natasha sighs and rolls her eyes over at them.

The two alpha’s approach, and Natasha lets out another loud sigh as though she’s already tired of the entire situation. Sam sits up and frowns at them, body going completely stiff as they stand before them. 

“Lady Natasha, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” one of the alphas say with a smarmy smile. 

“Brock, Jack,” she says motioning to the two alpha’s. “Do you need something, or are you just going to loiter around us?”

The one who Steve believes is Brock gives Natasha a cheeky smile, “I was just hoping I could meet prince James’ little trophy. To think, he didn’t even have to fight, and he still gets something out of it.”

Steve glares at him because he’s all to use to dealing with alphas like Brock. They talk about him like he’s not even there, and then only turn his way when it’s to harass him.  And in the end, the Alphas will claim the words were pleasant, or even meant to be sweet. 

“Do you need something?” Steve snaps out and the question is more rhetorical than anything else. 

“Calm down sweetheart,” Brock says, and his friend smirks behind him. “I’ve always heard you southern omega’s know how to lay down and take it, but I’ve always liked omega’s who prefer it to be a little rough.” 

Steves jaw clutches at those words, but he also feels choked up at the same time. He’s never had an alpha make such blatant comments at him, they’ve suggested it in many words but have  _ never _ stated it so obviously. Steve can’t help but wonder if maybe all northern alpha's are like this. 

“Get the hell out of here Brock,” Natasha hisses. Brock only laughs. If it were Steve in Brock’s place he wouldn’t be laughing. Natasha's pretty intimidating with her scolding looks and dagger attached to her side. 

They continue to laugh, but wander off anyway. Brock throws a wink over his shoulder that Steve’s not sure is directed at him, or at Natasha. Natasha snorts at the Alpha's and sends them a withering look.

“Alpha’s are the worse,” Sam says. As a beta sam's not nearly as appealing to an omega compared to an alpha, nor as effected to the scent of an omega. Therefore, their antics seem ridiculous, and something that can be easily mocked more than anything else. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Steve murmurs. “Who were they?” 

“Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins?” Sam says watching as a group of soldiers pass them by, “Rollins is more of a sidekick than anything, but Brock thinks because his uncle is Alexander Pierce he can do whatever he wants” 

“Pierce is King George's head advisor?” Steve asks. 

“Yes,” Sam says. “He’s also one of the richest men alive. He owns most of the mines in the mountains and has made quite a lot of money. He’s probably one of the most powerful men in the country.” 

“If I had my magic I would have hit him in the back of the head with the hilt of his own sword,” Steve says and Natasha lets out a soft snort of a laugh. 

Steve’s never really had friends of his own. Sure his mother was like his best friend, and him and Dr. Erskine had always been close, but he was more of a mentor. Sam and Natasha feel as though they could be his friends, or even more importantly, his allies.

 

***

 

As the get further north, small patches  of snow start to appear on the ground and in the trees. On the horse Steve snuggles closer to Natasha, and then when she gives him a look over her shoulder, he pretends nothing happened. 

They’re  only hours away at this point,  and soon Steve will be at his new home with his soon to be husband. It still feels surreal at this point. He can’t imagine this journey ever coming to an end. 

Not once during the whole ride has he seen King Barnes. He’s been traveling in the center of the group while Steve and Natasha have been towards the back, taking a slower pace. Neither of them are soldiers, and they can drift around as they please. 

One he first catches sight of the castle he can’t help but admit that it looks dazzling. It’s up on a hill far enough outside of the town that the noise doesn’t reach it. The castle is larger than anything he’s ever seen before, and he can already imagine himself getting lost within it. 

“The castle is beautiful,” Steve says, and Natasha makes a low humming noise in return. “Do you live here too?” 

“Yes. I also have a house in the mountains too, but I only go there in the summer,” Natasha replies just as Sam lands down and transfer back into human form. Steve’s not entirely sure how he’s able to always appear back in clothes. The only conclusion Steve can come up with is that he must have some spell that allows it.

“I have a letter,” Sam says reaching up to pass Steve a note. “It’s from Queen Winfred.” 

Steve opens the letter quickly and reads over it. The notes shorts and written in swirling cursive with a tone that suggests they're already familiar with each other, but it’s the content of the note that almost makes him drop it in the dirt. 

“What? What did the note say?” Sam questions. 

“She says that the wedding's tomorrow,” Steve says still in shock. “I’m getting married tomorrow.” 

Steve had thought he’d a have a few weeks to get to know James and his new surroundings before a wedding. He’d thought that maybe it wouldn’t be like he was marrying a stranger, but a friend instead.

He almost can’t believe it even though it all makes sense. There's no reason that they’d keep him at the castle if he wasn’t married to James, it’s only lead to trouble. He had hoped though, somewhat fruitlessly, that it would turn out different. 

Steve wants desperately to go home, hug his mother close, and pretend this is all some sick dream. Go back to a time when he could use his magic somewhat freely and was surrounded by people he knew all his life. 

He doesn’t even realise he’s crying until he’s quickly wiping the tears away. He hates when other people see him cry, how weak it makes them believe he is. Steve clutches the note in his hand and tries to calm himself. 

“Steve?” Sam asks quietly. “Are you alright?”

He sniffles and wipes away the spare tears. “Yes, i’m alright. Everything’s perfectly fine.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Natasha murmurs. She grasps his hand tightly in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Steve nods,  _ desperately _ wanting to believe her words. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos. I didn't like the little question mark so I've changed the number of chapters to 23 which is a rough estimate. Thanks to Low_Key_Nerdy for editing this chapter! It may be more or less depending on how long each chapter is. Sorry also for the large gap between updates, the next chapter will be posted this weekend at the latest. 
> 
> Up next: Steve and Bucky (finally) meet and the first chapter in Bucky's POV.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky honestly has no memory of meeting any prince or even going to Mullingar, but he nods along like he does, and his mother seem perfectly satisfied by that. 
> 
> “Your father seems to have decided that it would be a good idea for you to marry Prince Steven.”

Bucky’s in the middle of reading a particularly interesting chapter of his book when his mother bursts into the room. It's the royal family's private library, but Dugan is sitting low in a big arm chair across from him, boots resting on something they really shouldn’t be, while Monty’s milling around looking at books half heartedly. 

His mother always looks like she’s in a rush, skirts flowing around as she walks, and her complex hairstyles always looking slightly messy. Bucky’s never been very sure why his mother always looks as though she has somewhere very important to be, it’s just one of those quirks he’s grown up with and is used to. 

“Boys,” his mother says giving Dugan and Monty a large smile, “you think you could give us a minute alone?”

“Of course,” Dugan says, more casually than is really appropriate. His mother loves the Commando’s, like they're  her own family, and will allow them to say or do just about anything they want. 

Now alone, his mother sits down on the couch with him, folding her hands in her lap carefully. She’s always been elegant in all the ways that one would imagine a Queen should be. Being charming and caring, which aren't necessarily essential for looking the part of Queen, but she’s certainly a better one for it. 

“I got a letter from your father this morning,” the words are already setting dread in his stomach, a low deep feeling that's all too familiar. For all the love and trust he has for his mother, his feelings for his father are much more complicated. 

“He took Mullingar then?” They all knew it would happen, only how long would it take was the question. When his father sets his mind to a task it's bound to happen. It also certainly helped that they had the advantages of a larger well trained army, more industrial and modern weapons, and intelligent tactical leaders. 

“Yes, they've turned over everything to him, and your father says they've already started their way back,” his mother says looking down at her hands. “But that's not what I have to tell you.”

Immediately, Bucky feels panic start to build up, “Did something happen? Did something happen to father-”

“No, no, no, nothing like that,” his mother says cutting him off. “I don’t know if you remember, but King Joseph has a son, he’s a few years younger than you. We met him once when you were a little boy.”

Bucky honestly has no memory of meeting any prince or even going to Mullingar, but he nods along like he does, and his mother seem perfectly satisfied by that. 

“Your father seems to have decided that it would be a good idea for you to marry Prince Steven.”

He’s stunned into silence with those words, honestly unable to comprehend what they mean. He can’t believe, completely out of the blue, his father has decided it would a good idea for him to get married. It’s always been a topic of discussion, but his father has never shown any urgency towards the subject in the past. It was always his mother who wanted him to find a nice omega to marry. Bucky never thought he’d be forced into something so unexpectedly. 

“I don’t understand? Why is he doing this?” Bucky says slumping back into the couch cushions. 

“You knew you’d have to get married eventually. Your father thinks that marrying Steve will create an opening to relations with the countries in the Vale. King Joseph has fallen out of popularity these last few years, but apparently the people are quite fond of his son,” his mother rattles off. “He’s quite the mage too, or at least that what's your father said, and you know how he feels about magic.”

Bucky’s father has become increasingly invested in bringing magic back into the family. He’s surrounded himself with several people who know quite a bit about magic, including his head adviser Peirce. Bucky’s certainly not a fan of that obsession, or magic in general. 

“He can’t expect me to marry someone I don’t even know,” Bucky argues, and his mother sighs. 

“Before he left he’d suggested the thought to me, but I hadn’t considered the idea seriously,” his mothers says patting him on the shoulder in sympathy. “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Your father and I hardly knew each other before our wedding, and we turned out fine.” 

Bucky’s not so sure about that because he’d not entirely sure that his mother loves his father. Admires him, respects him, care for him of course. Loves him though, that was certainly much more complicated, something, that after nearly thirty years of marriage, still isn’t there.

He always wanted love, as much as he never tried to portray himself as a romantic, he still was. Bucky certainly wanted to be in love with someone, and preferably marry that someone too. He didn’t want to be one of those people that was stuck hoping and praying love would come along eventually. 

“Natasha wrote to you also,” his mother passes him a small letter, “she’s met Steve apparently, been traveling with him for a bit. She seems quite taken by him really.” 

Bucky’s honestly surprised. Natasha's very particular, and a positive review from her carries more weight than from anyone else. In general he trusts Natasha’s opinion in most things, but still, he can’t decide to suddenly like a stranger based on her words, future husband or not. 

He reads over the letter quickly. It’s concise and straight to the point. Natasha doesn’t dilly dally with unnecessary formalities. After all the time they’ve known each other, it hardly seems necessary. 

What she tells him doesn’t surprise him. That his father practically forced steve into the marriage with some  _ deal _ that really left no other option. His father will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and Bucky supposes that threatening a nineteen year old omega really isn’t out of the question.  

Still that doesn’t make him feel any better about the situation. This whole thing makes him feel dirty even if he has no control over it. Bucky doesn’t even notice that he’s been crumpling the note in his metal hand until his mother pries it free. 

“Marriage is a happy thing,” his mother says and gives him a wide reassuring smile. He knows it's supposed to be a happy thing, he grew up hearing the many tales about the joys of marriage that run through the kingdom. He’s sure now the people are celebrating the news that their Prince is getting married. Bucky doesn’t feel like celebrating, but he certainly does feel like having a drink.

 

***

 

Today Bucky’s father is finally returning and he’s bringing with him Bucky’s future husband. He dresses carefully that morning, getting ready in his military uniform that's carefully decorated with all of his medals. He admires himself in the mirror of his bedroom, stuffing his metal hand into the pocket of his pants, thinking back to a time he was whole. 

He runs into Rebecca in the hallway who's wearing a loose blue dress that seems more suitable for spring than winter. The cold seems to never affect her and she wears the thin material of summer fabric throughout the year. 

She smiles while pushing a tendril of brown hair over her shoulder, “You excited to meet your bride?”

He frowns at her teasing tone as she links her arm with his. She’d already had her own arranged marriage a year ago, and from what Bucky can tell it turned out rather well. She’d known Matthew for years before they had gotten married, so in that sense their situations are very different. 

Bucky’s almost sure Becca loves Matthew, it makes him hopeful that the same could happen to him. The warm feeling of possibility turns to anxiety making him tap his leg incessantly as they come to stand by his mother. 

She seems to have the same anxious energy as she flutters around from place to place. Becca laughs at her antics and is promptly scolded by their mother, setting her with a look that could burn. 

“You’ll both be very nice to Steve,” she says straightening one of Bucky’s metals like he’s a child. “He’s had a very long journey and will be overwhelmed and tired, so be on your best behavior.”

“Alright Ma,” Becca says with a roll of her eyes. As much as Becca likes to antagonise him she’s still probably one of the kindest and most charming people he knows. He could never imagine her being anything but polite to Steve. 

Bucky nods and wiggles in his jacket uncomfortably, “I hate wearing the uniform.”

His mother lets out a small sigh and sets him with a downcast looks as she rubs his arm absentmindedly. “You deserve every single of of those medals James. Do not think anything different for a single second.”

It feels like something caught in his throat and he turns away, not quite able to look into her loving expression. Sometimes her adoring looks are to much for him, and he finds himself folding in on himself. 

Slowly soldiers start to come into the courtyard. Only the highest ranking soldiers are there. The rest not even leaving the city. He’s sure they’ve all already had several drinks, probably not to far away from being drunk. The city will be overrun with soldiers for another week or two before they slowly start heading back to their base camps in their own provinces. 

He spots his father who dismounts from his horse with a flourish, passing the reins off to a stable boy who scurries around to meet his needs. He looks a little raged with his partially grey beard and hair lacking its usual finesse. 

What Bucky’s not prepared for is to watch his father give his mother a tight hug, lifting her feet right off the ground. She lets out a surprise squeak as he kisses around her face with wide smile. He’s never seen them so outright affectionate, and it makes Bucky just a little less angry at his father.

He gives Becca a hug too before coming to stand in front of Bucky. He gives him a long look before saying, “I know you're not happy with me right now, but I hope eventually you’ll change your mind.” It's the most of an apology that he's ever going to get from his father. Mostly because he doubts his father is actually sorry. For him, Bucky getting married is just how the world works. This marriage is just part of a plan for the kingdom, but more importantly, for Bucky. 

He spots Natasha over his fathers shoulder, still sitting on top of a black horse. Behind her is Steve, she had mentioned that he was riding with her since both of them are light enough that it’s not to much weight for the horse. 

The first glance he gets of Steve he’s slightly angry with the fact that he finds him attractive already. He looks tiny though, even sitting by Natasha who's not very tall at all. He watches as Sam gives them both a hand as they hop down from the horse, and Bucky watches as Steve sways awkwardly on his feet. 

Bucky wonders if he should go offer him a hand, but according to custom their not even supposed to talk to each other. Its seen as bad luck to talk with your fiance the week before the wedding, some even go as far as insisting you don’t see them. Typically that wouldn’t be so difficult to follow, but considering that he will be living in the same place as Steve there's a new element of challenge. 

There's a plethora of wives tales that surround weddings. At Least Bucky considers them wives tales even though they’re believed truthful. Not talking the week before the wedding is standard, along with not living in the same house as the person you're engaged to. Its why they're rushing the wedding. For he’s sure the people will be thinking their marriage will be cursed, if they pend any more than a night living in the same place without being married, even with the vast halls of the castle. 

Steve looks overwhelmed, he’s gripping onto Natasha arm like it's a life line. There are dark circles under his lovely blue eyes, and he’s skinny in a way that makes Bucky want to tuck him into bed and force feed him sugary sweets. 

It's been a long time since Bucky been attracted to someone so quickly. The feeling only becoming more intense when he catches a whiff of his scent. It's incredibly enticing which means they're most likely compatible - which will make mating easier and more natural. He wonders if his father could tell, he once read that it's widely believed in some areas that parents can tell if their child will find a possible mate’s scent enticing. Its an old mechanism use to ensure that the blood line is passed down. 

He watches his mother and sister practically attack Steve, who looks shocked under their intense, well meaning, attention. He watches as Natasha subtly shifts her body so she can catch Bucky’s eyes around his sister's shoulder. He can’t decipher her look, and he moves back even farther away from her. 

Dugan appears at his side followed by Denier who are both dressed in their own military uniforms. He knows it's required, but it feels like they're getting dressed up in costume for some silly show of power. 

“Is that the fiance?” Dugan whispers with his loud voice, so it's hardly quiet. Bucky nods in response and wonders if he should shush Dugan before he says anything too embarrassing. 

“Are you going to go talk to him?” Denier asks, peering over at Steve out of the corner of his eye. He has a quiet voice compared to Dugan, and his strong accent (from the most eastern valley province) comes through. 

“No, it's considered bad luck. My mother would have fit,” Bucky replies. He can imagine her scolding him like she used to do all the time when he was a kid, and Becca and him would fight over everything. She’d send him away with a pointed look and a swat on the back of the head.

Denier makes a low humming noise, “He is very pretty. I certainly wouldn’t mind if he was going to be my husband.”

Bucky scowls and both Dugan an Denier laugh, “Already getting jealous, Sarg?” Dugan teases and Bucky rolls his eyes. 

He meets Steve's eyes somewhat unexpectedly, even though he has been staring intently at Steve, however, until a minute ago, his mother and sister were blocking them. Steve gives him a tentative half smile, and Bucky tries to give him one in return. But he has a feeling his face does something weird, because steve's folding his arms over his chest and looking defensive. 

Last night lying in bed he’d told himself that he’d hate Steve and his father for making them marry. Now, he’s finding that hating him is much more difficult than he originally thought. It feels petty and childish even though Bucky still finds part of himself wanting to be that way. 

His mother and sister are pulling Steve out of the brisk air of the courtyard and into the castle, probably dragging him into the finishing stages of wedding planning. Bucky knows there's several rituals that an omega must go through before a wedding, and he’s sure they're about to throw him into them without warning. 

He watches as Natasha’s starts to approach him. She’s wearing her formal diplomat jacket which he hardly ever sees her wear. Embroidered on the arm is the emblem of her province, like a brand on her arm, claiming who she is and were she’s from. 

“James,” she says giving him a careful look. He knows people underestimate her because they don’t realise how observant she is. 

“Natasha,” he says back trying to pretend like he knows what the look she’s giving him means. “How was the ride back?” 

“Different than expected,” she says with a small smile, “with the added unexpected company.” 

He nods and wonders if Steve and Natasha are friends. He could probably ask her, but he’s sure he’d get some backwards twisted answer in response. Natasha somehow always seems to say things that seem backwards at first, only to be perfectly straightforward later on.

“His magic… my father said that it's strong?” It comes out as a question, and Bucky finds he wants to celebrate but doesn’t quite know why. 

“I wouldn’t know. They’ve put suppressor bracelets on him,” Natasha says, and he surprised by the bitterness in her voice. She’s never been particularly sympathetic towards mages . . . mainly disinterested. 

He feels a wave of relief at the fact he won’t have to deal with magic. He’s still not quite ready to face all of that. Natasha gives him a look that almost seems like she’s disappointed in him, before turning in walking inside. His gaze follows her out of the courtyard, and he’s not sure what to make of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter (the next one should definitely be longer) but for now a short chapter! Thanks so much to Low_Key_Nerdy for editing this chapter for me. The next update will hopefully be sooner rather then later. Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and comments and kudos are always appreciated! 
> 
> Up Next: the wedding!


	5. Chapter 5

Steves not at all prepared for the attention Queen Winifred and Princess Becca lavish him with. He expected their treatment to be more like King George's, ignore him and leave him to be someone else's problem. 

They’ve already insisted that he calls them by their first name because their  _ family,  _ which he’s not quite sure how to deal with. He’s not used to having family. To him it's always just been him and his mother. 

Steve’s being fitted for his wedding outfit. It's fancier than anything he’s used to associating with weddings. Besides the fact that all the wedding outfits in Mullingar are white, they have very little in common. Back home wedding clothes were loose fitting tunics, with little decorations, and were typically sleeveless because almost all weddings occurred during the summer months. 

There's ornate beading and embroidery(which seems to be the norm for cloths here).  The top hits mid thigh and curls around his waist to give the illusion of curves. Underneath, there are leggings that seem to glimmer when he turns back and forth. Becca and Winfred flutter around him giving him compliments, and telling the seamstresses to make subtle changes. 

“George said you had blue eyes, but he hardly did them justice,” Winifred said while smoothing out the fabric of the thick tunic. “They look like the summer sky.” 

Steve blushes and looks down at his feet with a small smile. If he wants anyone here to be his ally it’s Winifred and Becca. Prince James can scowl and avoid him all he wants, but as long as they have Steve’s back, nothing can go too wrong. 

“You know George’s mother was from the Vale, she was the youngest daughter of the King of Antelgrad,” Winifred said just as one of the seamstresses pricked him with a needle. “She had blonde hair like you. I thought it look like the sun spun into silk. I was so jealous of her.”

“Maybe you and Bucky’s pups will be blonde!” Becca turned facing the mirror, admiring herself in one of Steve’s rejected tunics. 

Steve frowns in confusion, “Bucky?”

“Its James’ nickname,” Winifred explains. “We started calling him that when he was just a pup, and it sort of just stuck.”

Steve's not quite sure he’s ready for Prince James to become Bucky yet. The nickname is sweet, if not a little childish, but more importantly it’s familiar as if they’ve known each other for years and are closest of friends. He’s certainly not ready to consider little blonde haired pups either. 

They have Steve change out of his wedding outfit and into new clothes. His clothes from the journey have probably already been thrown away, and Steve’s a little sad to see them go. He feels overly connected to anything that reminds him of home. 

He sits in Winifred's private study and listens to her explain everything that will happen in the ceremony the next day. Much of it is familiar from weddings he’s been to, with only a few changes that shouldn’t confuse him too much. Steve does his best to pay attention to her words, but he’s exhausted, and finds his eyelids lowering and brain becoming nothing more than mush. 

“Ma,” Becca interrupts, “stop talking. Steve’s tired, and there's nothing you're saying that you can’t tell him in the morning.” 

“No I’m fine,” Steve argues but he can feel himself nodding off even though he’s sitting upright. 

“Becca’s right. I’m sure you're tired,” Winifred said. “But there's just one more thing before you go to bed.” 

She pulled out a wooden box, which Steve hadn’t even noticed before. The wood's red and looks expensive. She opened the box carefully to reveal a crown. It’s lovely and surprisingly light when she gently rests it on his head. 

It’s red, blue and has white jewels that appear in the shapes of stars. Its seems like something out of a fairy tale. It’s probably the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire life. He feels completely in awe. “This is too much! I can’t wear it!” 

“Of course you can,” Winifred said with a soft smile. “It was George's mother’s. It was made deep in the mountains of Yakutia. It’s a crown made for a foreign queen. . . it’s only right that you wear it.” 

“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, tone reverent, as he lifts the crown carefully off his head and back into the box. Winifred closed the box carefully. 

Winifred gave him a kind smile, “Becca how about you show Steve to his room, it looks as though he needs a good night's rest.” 

Becca does just that, showing him to the room he’ll be staying in for the night. After the wedding he’ll be moving into James’ room. He practically throws himself down onto the bed once Becca leaves. Enjoying the feeling of a thick mattress instead of a mat on the ground. He closes his eyes and tries to wiggle out of his clothes without even standing up. 

Eventually he succeeds in getting his clothes off, and within seconds he is sound asleep.

 

***

 

He wakes up to the sound of a servant bringing in some breakfast. It's the first time in two weeks that he’s had warm food for breakfast, and the steaming oatmeal covered in cinnamon sugar makes his mouth water. There's also two slices of toast with a little pot of jam and butter besides them. 

Steve eats quickly, hungry from not eating dinner the night before. The servant girl gives him a little curtsey before leaving the room. While Steve devours the food, he sips his tea slowly, savoring all of it. The wedding is not till the afternoon so he figures he has time to lye in bed. 

Eventually a gentle knock at his door followed by it slowly being open to reveal Natasha along with a brown haired woman. As soon as Steve acknowledges them they venture farther into the room. 

“Natasha!” Steve says happy to see a familiar face, “What are you doing here?” 

“Wanda and I thought maybe you’d want a tour of the castle,” Natasha explains. She’s no longer wearing her diplomat coat but instead is wearing a black dress with red and white beading. 

“Hello,” Steve says to Wanda feeling awkward about the fact that a complete stranger is seeing him sitting in bed in only his underwear. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Prince Steven,” Wanda says with a small bow. She has a slight accent and Steve’s unable to place where it's from. She’s beautiful with long dark hair and a bright red long tunic on. 

“You can call me Steve if you want. Just give me a minute and I’d love a tour.”

“Queen Winfred told me to give you these,” Natasha says handing him a bundle of clothes. Its another tunic and legging which seems to be standard attire for omega’s. He slips out of bed and goes behind the dressing screen to quickly pull his clothes on. 

Finally dressed he emerges from behind the screen and heads out into the hallway with both of them. As they walk through the castle it seems more empty than the day before with many people either preparing for the wedding or sleeping in from a long night of celebrating. 

The tour is helpful though he doubts he’ll be able to remember all the different rooms and locations. The castle is nearly three times as big as his home back in Mullingar, and he’s not even completely sure they see the entire thing. 

On the way back they run into Queen Winifred who seems surprised to see them, “Steve! I was just coming to get you. It’s time to start getting ready.” 

“I thought the ceremony wasn’t for hours?” Steve questions. It’s just a little past mid morning and he thought he’d have a least another few hours. 

“There's still lots to do! There are rituals you must go through to ensure that your marriage won’t be cursed,” Steve doesn’t particularly like the sound of that Unfortunately for him he doesn’t have much of a choice. He knows weddings here in Yoshkar are seen as much larger of a ceremony than in Mullingar, where they are much simpler affairs. In Yoshkar there's suspicions and wives tales that mean rituals must be followed or otherwise the marriage will be cursed. 

They head back into Steve’s temporary chambers where two servant girls have drawn him a bath that smells of lavender and vanilla. The two servants seem to be older than the ones he saw before, and they wear special arm bands on their uniforms. 

Steve feels slightly embarrassed undressing in front of these women. Sensing his hesitation the women turn their backs and allow him to get into the water before turning back to face him. He gives them a hesitant smile in thanks. 

Any sense of modesty goes out the window when the two woman scrubs him down with washcloths smelling of vanilla. At first he yelps out in surprise but eventually gets used to the nearly volent scrubbing, even finding aspects of it relaxing. Before long they’re handing him a nice thick robe and emptying the bathtub. 

Steve’s not sure what's happening when he sees them start to fill the tub with water again. They’re standing at a table off the corner of the bathroom. The table is covered in several books along with jars of salts and dried plants. The two women are both looking at large book, whispering quietly to each other. 

He’s a little embarrassed that he didn’t realise it earlier. It's a sign for how much his suppressor bracelets are dampening his ability to sense other magic users, or magical objects. The two woman are mages. Healers, to be exact. 

Steve’s met quite a few healers in his life, and not just because how easily he gets sick. They’re common in Mullingar. His mother has some abilities that could have made her a healer, but her lack of training meant she could never get past the basics. Compared to other mages, healers often tie their magic into plants, or natural substances, which would explain the jars of smelling salts and plants. 

He got back into the tub, as they drizzle in salts and petals. It doesn’t smell quite as sweet as the other bath did but it’s still pleasant. They don’t scrub him down this time but instead let him float in the large bath. 

“What's in the bath?” Steve asks, resting in the water that is nearly up to his neck. He’s never had a very good sense of smell, and beside the light scent of rose, he can’t distinguish anything else. 

“It’s rose and sea salt,” the older of the two healers says, “smells like the ocean doesn’t it?” 

Steve nods even though he’s never even seen the ocean let alone smelled it. “What is this one for?”

“It’s for fertility,” the younger healer says, giving him a suggestive smile. Steve’s sure he’s blushing all the way to his chest and slowly sinks down into the water until it’s almost up to his nose. 

He gets two more baths after that one, leaving him more than a little pink and quite a bit pruny. He’s not sure that's he’s ever been so clean in his entire life, scrubbed completely clear of any dirt. 

They help him get dressed, then under Winifred's oversight, the seamstress continued to make small arrangements until the wedding outfit fits like a glove. Steve’s not at all prepared for one of the healers to grab him by the back of his head while the other starts rubbing sweet smelling lotion into his face. 

It's a good thing she has a firm grip on the back of his head because he immediately tries to pulls away. He gets his eyes lined too, very carefully with a black pencil. He almost slaps it out of the healer’s hand in total surprise. 

When they finally pull away, and he’s able to see his own reflection, he’s surprised at what's looking back at him. He looks beautiful. Steve’s face is more glowy than he’s used to, and the subtle lining around his eyes make his eyelashes look even fuller and his eyes bigger. He’s not sure how he feels about the fact that he likes looking this way, like a pretty little omega. Steve’s always tried to make his personality the focus point but a part of him that's not used to being attractive is pleased. 

“Oh Steve!” Winifred said sighing happily, “You look absolutely lovely. Nobody’s going to be able to keep their eyes off of you.” 

He flushes under her compliment, “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Coming here he didn’t expect kindness from anyone, especially not the Queen but Winifred treated him with nothing but kindness. She gives him a loving smile, “It's been nothing. You're my son now Steve, anything you need all you have to do is ask.”

He pulls her into a tight hug and she gives a quick laugh in surprise. She runs a careful hand down from his hair all the way to his central back in soothing motions. As she pulls back Steve thinks he might have spotted a run away tear. 

“Come on, it’s time to go,” Winifred says hustling him out of the room and through the hallway until they reach Natasha. She’s dressed in fancier clothes than before, with her hair perfectly styled. She gives Steve a small smile as they approach. 

“What are you doing out here?” Steve asks. 

“I was asked to walk you down the aisle,” Natasha gives him a gentle smile at his surprised expression. “I know that's popular for weddings in Mullingar and none of your families here, so I thought I’d be a good stand in.” 

Steve hadn’t even considered walking down the aisle all by himself, all these strangers staring at him. He’s grateful once again for the unexpected affection he’s getting from people in Yoshkar, where he expected to only get cruelty. 

Natasha links her arm in Steve’s as they watch Winfred wander off, and Steve and Natasha head to the closed doors that lead into the great hall where the wedding will be held. Steve whole body is practically humming with nerves, which he tries his best to keep down, but through the sympathetic look Natasha gives him, he can a tell he’s not doing a very good job. 

They wait outside for several long minutes before the large doors finally open and they begin walking. The grand hall's packed with unfamiliar faces who are all staring intnetly at him. He’s unused to receiving such concentrated attention,  and it takes all of his willpower to not bend under it. 

The majority of the wedding goes off without a hitch. Carefully their hands are bound together, Steve’s thin fingers coming to rest upon James’ larger hands. The vows are spoken slowly and clearly to make sure even those in the very back of the room can hear. After that their hands are unbound, crowns are placed upon their heads and finally after over a two hours the ceremony draws to a close. 

Somehow, even though they're the only two people, beside the priest stand on the altar, James seems to ignore him. Steve feels anger slowly building up inside and with his magic available he’s not sure when it might all come out. 

As soon as the ceremony is over they get dragged to the dining hall up to the highest table, where Steve and James are placed in the very center. To his side is Becca who keeps up a steady stream of conversation, since James seems to have no interest in talking with him. Steve’s not entirely sure what he did to offend James, but he definitely will have things to say once they’re not in a room full of people. 

Throughout the evening people come up and give their congratulations. It’s a stream of faces that he forgets almost as soon as they walk away. Mostly they seem to be talking to James, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s because Steve’s a foreigner or because he’s an omega. 

Steve’s picking at his slice of cake, which is more sweet than seems necessary. Steve’s always had a strong sweet tooth, but this cake makes his nose wrinkle in disgust and he simply moves it around his plate. 

James, on the other hand, has no interest in cake. Instead he’s on what must be his hundredth drink. A few of his friends who are all dressed in their army suits are standing around and talking loudly. James is tipped back in his chair, talking loudly enough that it obvious to everyone his drunk. 

He looks up from his cake to find a beautiful woman standing before him. She looks to be in her late twenties, and her dark hair is one up in a style that reminds him of what women used to wear in Mullingar. Her lips are a startling red color and her dress form fitting and blue. 

“Peggy Carter,” she says holding her hand out for him to shake. “Official diplomatic representation from Telford.” 

“From Telford? Your accent does sound familiar,” Steve says excitedly. Though he’s never been there he knows that Mullingar does quite a bit of trading with them. Telford is only partially in the Vale though because of the abundance of magic many still consider it a vale nation. Not only that, but there one of Mullingar closest allies. 

“It’s good to see another citizen of the Vale,” she says giving him a smile. “These Yoshkar ceremonies are certainly long.” 

“You don’t have to tell me. Plus they don’t even have honeymoons,” Steve says hushing his voice, as though he’s telling her a very important secret. 

“How awful,” Pegga says adopting the same tone. “All work and no play. How very dreary. The honeymoon's the best part.” 

There's a small line forming for people to give their congratulations, and since James seems too inebriated to do much, Steve’s suppose he’ll have to do it even though he’d rather keep talking with Peggy.   
“Perhaps we can have tea tomorrow afternoon, if you're not busy?” Steve asks, “I think we have some things to discuss.” 

“Of course,” Peggy says giving the customary bow. “It was a pleasure to meet you Prince Steve.” 

After that, there's hardly anything of interest. He greets more guests, watches as James gets drunker and drunker beside him. All Steve really wants to do is go to sleep, curl up in bed with a good book or a sketching pad and be left alone. 

He’s relieved when guests slowly start to leave. Unfortunately he has to wait until James is ready to go, which will most likely be never, considering Steve’s pretty sure he’s too drunk to even move without assistance. 

 Steve been married for a few hours, and he’s already ready to slap his husband clean across the face, maybe knock some sense into him. It’s Becca who finally catches on to his annoyed looks and Bucky’s inebriated state. It also helps that she hears Steve yawn for about the hundredth time that night. 

“It doesn’t seem like Bucky’s in any rush,” Becca says giving her brother the kind of look only siblings are allowed to give. 

“No, not particularly,” Steve folds his arms over his chest and gives him the side eye. Steve’s tired of sitting in front of everyone and knowing all eyes are on him. He just wants to be alone. 

“Go ask Dugan over there to help you,” Becca says motioning over to the loudest one in the group with the mustache. “He’s good at ranginling Bucky.”

Steve nods and slips from his chair, approaching where Bucky is, somehow standing completely upright, talking with his friends. He’s still has a glass in his hand and looks to be drinking it down as though he won't ever be able to drink again. 

When he gets spotted by one of the guys, a dark haired alpha, with the drunkest smile possible, “Sarge, your husband it here!”

Bucky turns to look at Steve and almost falls over with the sudden motion, “My husband! My very pretty husband.”

Steve finds himself blushing under the compliment because, even drunk, Bucky is still almost unbearably attractive. Steve’s never been so attracted to someone the same amount he feels towards Bucky, even if all he’s gotten in scowls and drunken compliments. 

“Going to carry your husband off to bed?” Dugan teases Bucky who gives Steve a dazed smile. 

“I doubt that he could carry anyone,” Steve says, folding his arms over his chest. “Actually, he’ll probably going to need someone to carry him.”

Most of the guys just laugh it off, but as Becca had told him, Dugan seems to catch onto his tone, “I think it's time to head to bed Sarge.”

It takes Dugan, and another guy, to half carry half drag Bucky to their room. Steve's leading the way until he realises that he’s not entirely sure where they’re going. Luckily, the other two seem to know where they’re going and lead him deep into the castle. 

It's more of a private suit than anything, not just a bedroom. It first opens up into a sitting room, with doors to a bedroom, bathroom, small private study, and a secluded balcony overlooking the gardens.  

“Should we put him in the bed?” Bucky’s close to completely passed out and still suspended between the two men. They all smell strongly of alpha, and Steve's slightly peeved that their scent contaminating the room. Even though it had been Bucky’s previously, it somehow smells bare. 

Bucky’s scent doesn’t bother him anyways, especially after they have bonded. Even unbonded steve doesn’t particularly mind it. Though, like all omegas, he doesn’t like others smells in his den beside his mate. It's an old primordial feeling that Steve finds completely unavoidable. 

“No put him down there,” Steve says motioning to the couch. “I don’t want to wake up because he vomited his dinner on me.”

“Only been married a few hours, and you're already in the dog house Sarge,” Dugan says with a laugh as they deposit Bucky onto the couch with a thump. He grunts and tries to bury his face within the cushions. 

Steve feels awkward now that Bucky’s friends are looking at him. He twiddles his fingers together awkwardly, “Thank you. I don’t think I could have dragged him here myself.”

“I’m sure you could have managed,” Dugan says good natured before giving him a slight bow. “Goodnight Prince Steve.”

The door shuts quietly and Steve stands stiffly for minute before releasing a long gush of air, and going over to inspect Bucky whose rolled onto his back with his eyes half open. He reaches towards Steve as he gets closer, somehow, even with his lack of coordination, he’s able to catch Steve's hand in his. 

“Steve?” the word comes out as a barely formed whine. “Can I have kiss?”

He sighs and slowly detaches his hand from Bucky’s grip, and lets Bucky’s hand flop lifelessly to his side. Steve shakes his head, and right before leaving the room and going to the bedroom, whispers a nearly silent, “Goodnight Bucky.”

He shuts the door behind himself, slipping the crown from his head and gently into the box. Bucky had lost his crown ages ago, and Steve wishes he had done the same, even though the crown was surprisingly light, it's still made his neck stiff. 

Steve undresses carefully, glad that it's late and there's no more servants or healers hovering over him. He carefully folds up his wedding clothes and places them on top of a large chests that rests beside the end of the bed. He quickly changes into loose pajamas and slips between the silky soft sheets on the bed. 

The sheets smell like Bucky, a warm, rich scent that fills him up. Steve buries his face into the pillow, and then embarrassed, rolls onto his back. There's a stack of books on one of the bed side tables, and he wonders if they were placed there for decoration, or if Bucky enjoys reading.

He picks the book resting at the top of the stack, his eyes taking a minute to adjust in the darkness. If he had his magic he'd be able to cast the room into dull brightness within seconds. The title is written in a rich dark blue ink; A _ Brief History of Mullingar Culture and People.  _ Steve smiles before placing the book back in its place. 

Steve falls asleep easily after that, faces buried in a pillow that smells exactly like Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! the next update should be up within the next week, comments and kudos are always appreciated. 
> 
> Up Next: basically Bucky is a total mess


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky wakes up to the sound of loud footsteps. He’s on edge within seconds because he’s not used to waking up to someone else in his room. Once in awhile the occasional servant but their footsteps falls so quietly he wouldn’t be woken by them. These footsteps are loud and don’t give off the effect of someone going out of their way to let him sleep more. 

His heads pounding, and there’s a pressure behind his eyes that makes him feel dizzy even though he’s still lying down. Bucky slowly opens one eye, but the brightness of the room is so intense he immediately he has to close it. It takes several minutes for him to build up the strength to sit up.

It's his husband of course. He doesn’t know why that wasn’t his first thought. He’s wearing simple clothes, and without the crown, wedding outfit, and makeup he looks young. He has a cup of tea in hand and his humming quietly to himself as he leans over the table, a large book open. 

“What time is it?” his throat is dry and the words come out half formed and husky. 

Steve turns and looks over at him slightly startled before recovering and setting him with a harsh frown and turning back to his book, “It’s a little past noon.” 

Bucky groans, clutching his forehead. After all the drinking he did yesterday he can’t really be surprised that he slept so much of the day away. He’s pretty sure he drank his entire body weight in alcohol yesterday. 

Steve stands up, his body completely stiff. Bucky frowns at Steve’s sudden movements, “Where are you going?” 

As soon as the words come out of his mouth he realises how commanding and controlling he sounds. The way Steve's face scrunches up means he also interpreted Bucky’s words as commanding and controlling. 

“I’m going to have lunch with Peggy Carter,” Steve says stubbornly, folding his arms over his chest as a stance of defiance. 

“Peggy Carter?” the words sound angry and accusatory. At this point, Bucky should just slap himself in the face because that couldn’t do anymore damage than this conversation. 

“What? Am I not allowed to talk to who ever I want? Going to decided where I can and can’t go husband?” He spits out the last word with a surprising amount of ferocity before slamming the book he was reading and stalking out of the room. 

Bucky sighs and rubs his hand over his face before heading into the bathroom. It's strange to see new products in the bathroom, all of which are Steve's. It feels invasive, but before he realises what he’s doing, he finds himself inspecting them carefully. 

Half the products seem like they were probably put there by orders from his mother and sister. From what Bucky can tell the makeup and abundance of skin products don’t really seem like they belong to Steve even though at their wedding his eyes had been carefully lined and his skin glowy.

Bucky inspects his own reflection in the mirror, and there are dark circles under his eyes and his hair looks like a bird could happily nest in it. He washes his face before changing into something slightly more comfortable. 

Yesterday he had woken up with his arm throbbing, but now it's only a slight sting. Zola had given him the usual medicine the day before which always made him feel numb and completely out of it. By the time the wedding was over the medicine had run out, and the only way to make the throbbing feeling stop was to drink himself into a stupor. 

Alexander had promised that Zola would look over the arm again today though recently it feels as if it hurts all the time. The pills they give him to numb it are only a temporary fix to a long lasting problem. 

Of course he’s grateful, losing his arm will forever be the most traumatic experience of his life. He’s thankful beyond words that Alexander was somehow able to give him this new piece of tech that's more complicated than Bucky could ever imagine. It’s the most innovative piece of science and technology, but it's also brand new and untested which means there's bound to be some issues. 

When he finally emerges out of the bathroom, now dressed in more comfortable and casual clothes, he finds a note telling him Alexander wants to meet with him. Bucky may not like Alexander very much, but he owes him so much he has no choice but to go. 

Alexander lives in a large manor a few miles away, but as one of his father's top advisors, he has his own chambers and office within the castle. His office is large, and in Bucky’s opinion, over decorated. 

Alexander is sitting behind his desk with Brock loitering around in the corner. Bucky dislikes Rumlow  much more than Alexander, because he’s his nephew he thinks he can do whatever he wants. Usually, they leave their confrontations for the training room, but unfortunately he’ll have to use his words today. 

“James. It’s good you could make it here.” The fact that Alexander always calls him James is one of the reasons he dislikes him. Nevertheless, he takes a seat across from him at the desk. 

“Enjoy your wedding night?” Rumlow  says with a smirk. Though he’s sure, that anyone at the wedding could tell he was far too drunk to do any of the things Brock’s suggesting. 

Bucky tries to keep from frowning, “Yes, everything went quite well.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Alexander cuts in before Rumlow  can say anything else though the intensity in his tone makes Bucky sink lower into the leather armchair. “How is the arm feeling today?”

“Much better than yesterday. It’s a little bit sore around the shoulder,” Bucky says touching his metal arm self consciously. It’s had never quite as much feeling as his real arm, but he can still feel anytime something touches it. The arm also keeps close to the same temperature as his body. 

“Zola said that it would be good to up your dosage,” Alexander says passing him a small bottle of pills over the desk. Bucky hates the numb feeling he gets from the pills, but he’s willing to do anything when the pain of the arm hits him. 

He heads to the training room next, where a couple of commandos who weren’t too drunk the night before are practicing. The weight of the arm means that he has to exercise quite a bit and keep his strength up and the best way is through training exercises. 

“I’m surprised to see you up,” Dugan teases. 

“I could say the same about you. I certainly wasn’t the only one drinking last night,” Bucky replies and starts talking at one of the dummy’s with a dull sword. 

Morita snorts, “No, but you were the only one that had to be carried to bed.” Bucky flushes with embarrassment because he had sort of hoped, that somehow, no one would remember that.

“I’m suprised your not rolling around in bed with that handsome new husband of yours,” Gabe says with a smirk and he thinks he might stop hacking at the dummy and instead turn it on the guys. 

“I had to have a meeting with Alexander,” Bucky explains while striking the dummy with more strength than before, “and Steve's apparently having lunch with Peggy Carter.” 

A hush falls over them all, filled with awkwardness and tension. They all know Peggy Carter, not only is she beautiful, but she’s also insanely intelligent. She’s both the ambassador from Telford and she’s the representative of non-magic users to S.H.I.E.L.D. 

“He’s a good man Sarge. I wouldn’t be concerned-”

“I’m not,” Bucky says a little to sharply before taking a settling breath, “She’s from the Vale just like Steve. I hadn’t realised how different things are Mullingar. I imagine it's nice to find someone who knows all the same things you know.” 

Only in the past few day has he started reading up on culture in Mullingar, and was surprised to find how many aspects were different. He hadn’t realised how drastic a change it was to move from one place to the other. 

He doesn’t see Steve till dinner, which they eat with his parents, sister and her husband. He doesn’t always eat with his parents, he’s allowed quite a bit of freedom around that ,and therefore usually eats with his friends. Its seems that his Mother bad decided that tonight Bucky and Steve have to eat with her. 

Even though their sitting next to one another, they still don't really talk. Part of the reason for that is Becca and his mother dote over Steve, occupying him completely. They both seem completely enchanted by him, and Steve seems to like them well enough in return. 

His father, on the other hand, doesn’t even spare Steve a second glance, and instead drones on and on about the council meeting. Bucky couldn’t be happier when dinner finally draws to a close. 

They walk through the hallways and back to their room in silence. When he sees Brock coming down the hallway he feels his stomach drop. He’s not exactly keen on seeing an interaction between Steve and Brock. 

“Lord Barnes, just the man I was looking for,” Brock says with his trade mark smirk, “and your handsome husband.”

Bucky does not like the look Brock’s giving Steve, and neither does Steve, as he folds his arms over his chest and sets his expression into something edging into defiant, “What do you want Rumlow?” 

“Nothing from you beautiful,” Bucky reaches over and hooks his arm through Steve’s, who Bucky is slightly concerned may try to punch Brock, “I was wondering if you wanted to come to a poker game with me and Rollins.” 

“No thanks,” Bucky says trying to move past Brock. Only in his worst moments does Bucky ever spend time willingly with Brock and Rollins and he doesn’t particularly feel low enough to commit to that. 

“Come on Barnes, I’m sure he’ll be able to survive a few hours without you,” Brock says motioning his head over to Steve who's looking even angrier than before. 

“He said no!” Steve spits out, “Now will be on our way!” 

Steve grabs him by the hand and pulls him all the way to their room with a surprising amount of strength. He’s pretty sure he hears Brock hiss something under his breath, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. 

“He’s horrible,” Steve says, flopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh. 

“He really is,” Bucky agrees and is surprised to see that Steve’s giving him a bright and wide smile. It's the first time, in regards to Steve, Bucky’s feels like he’s done something right. 

 

***

 

The first thing he realises is that somehow, in the middle of the night, Steve has stolen all the blankets. His half asleep brain doesn’t think much about scooting closer to Steve in an attempt to steal some of the covers back and throws an arm over his body. 

Except suddenly there's freezing cold feet resting right up in between his legs. Bucky sits straight up in surprises, and Steve groans at his sudden movements, eyes slowly blinking awake. 

He’s not prepared to look down and see a horrified look on Steve’s face, “Bucky, your hands metal.” 

“Yes?” Bucky is slightly confused, “The whole arms metal. Did you not notice last night, or at the wedding?” 

Steve shrugs his shoulder, “You were wearing gloves at the wedding and last night I wasn’t paying much attention.” 

Bucky lays back down and pulls some of the covers over his body. He finds himself suddenly unable to look at Steve, “Does it bother you?” 

“No, it’s actually really interesting. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I didn’t even know it was  _ possible _ to do anything like that.” 

“Oh,” Bucky breaths out. He’s still not used to the idea that his arm isn’t this weird horrifying attachment, “Lord Pierce had it designed for me.” 

He expects Steve to ask how he lost the arm, but he doesn't. Maybe he’s waiting for Bucky to offer up the information on his own. Instead, Steve rolls over and smashes his face into a pillow. 

“I can’t believe you woke me up so early,” Steve grumbles. Bucky looks at the little clock by the bed which reads that it's half past eight, and he doesn’t really think counts as early. He still lays back down, even knowing he won’t be able to fall asleep, and lets Steve steal back all the covers. 

He lays in bed for an hour, drifting between sleep and consciousness. Steve looks absolutely adorable, all sleep rumpled with his hair mussed and his hand curled under him. Eventually he drags himself out of bed and tries not to jostle steve too much. 

There's already breakfast laid out and he eats quickly before going to get ready. He promised his father he’d show up for the council meeting today, and he’s already running late. 

Steve’s just starting to wake up when Bucky comes into their bedroom to get his jacket out of the dresser. Steve looks disgruntled and half of his hair is sticking straight up. He frowns at Bucky, “Why are you being so loud?”

“Sorry,” Bucky whispers even though Steve's wide awake, and there's no point to even trying to be quite, “There's toast and jam if you’d like some, but I can ask one of the maids to get you something else.”

Steve rubs his eyes, “Is there any tea?”

“No, but i’ll asks the maids to get you some,” Bucky says before leaving the bedroom. He rings the bell, and within a minute, he’s telling a maid to bring steve tea and some cinnamon oatmeal. He’d overheard Steve the night before mentioning that he used to always eat it for breakfast in Mullingar. 

He spends most of the morning and the early afternoon in the council meeting listening to debates between his father, his advisors, diplomats, and a variety of high ranking lords. Its boring, mostly because bucky’s not allowed to do anything. Sitting quietly and listening to other people have the same debates over and over again is hardly thrilling. 

Bucky has a quick lunch with his father before heading to the training rooms for his daily work out. Natasha’s there, and where Natasha is Clint typically isn’t far behind, and Bucky sees him shooting arrows from an array of position at a board. 

Natasha tilts her head at the training circle and gives him a devilish smile, “Want to?”

“Alright,” Bucky says picking up one of the dull swords. Natasha does the same. Swords aren't her usual weapon, so he already has the advantage. They round each other once in the ring. Bucky’s moving slowly, getting use to the weight of the sword. 

Bucky strikes first, and Natasha defends herself easily. She’s more agile than Bucky’s ever been, even before the arm. She’s also smarter about her moves than him, and has trained with him enough to know all of his tricks. 

They finally stop when they're both red faced and breathing heavily. Bucky feels sweat trickle down his back and around the side of his face. He tosses Natasha a towel as they leave the rink. 

“Where’s Steve?” Natasha asks after they’ve had a minute to collect themselves. 

Bucky shrugs his shoulders, “not entirely sure, perhaps his having lunch with Peggy Carter again.”

“Don’t be that way!” Natasha snaps, and Bucky’s surprised by her ferocity, “You're not the one who had to leave everything! Your friends, your family, your home all of it. You don’t get to punish him for your unhappiness.”

“I’m trying,” Bucky urges, and she gives him an unimpressed look. “It was good this morning. We seemed okay.”

This morning, curled up with Steve in bed, had felt better than he expected. He likes Steve, and he’s certainly attracted to him. Bucky’s still not sure how to be married to someone. No one ever taught him how to be married. 

“That's good,” Natasha says seriously. “He deserves something good.”

“Was it hard for him…” Bucky’s not entirely sure what he’s asking, “back in mullingar?”

Natasha shrugs, “Maybe you should ask him.”

She leaves, staking off to go make sure Clint doesn’t shoot something he shouldn’t. Bucky’s too exhausted to do anything else and heads back to his room, hoping to take a long bath before dinner. 

He finds Steve in their room, book open in his lap, and a half drunk cup of tea besides him. He doesn’t even spare Bucky a second glance and continues to read his book. 

“Have you been here all day?” Bucky asks. He doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but is somehow it does anyway. 

Steve shrugs, “Where else am i supposed to go? I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well it's impossible to meet anyone when you sit around here all say,” as soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets them. Steve looks absolutely furious as he throws his book down on the couch and stands up, body completely tense. 

“If you want me to leave just say it but don’t pretend like you're trying to help me,” Steve hisses. 

“Steve-” Bucky tries to say but Steve's already stormed out of the room in a flurry of anger. Bucky sits down heavily on the couch because suddenly it feel like their back to square one. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry of the long wait between updates and short chapter. my end of the year art show is done so i should have more time to write and updates will be coming out quicker. thank you to low_key_nerdy for editing this chapter. 
> 
> this whole story has way more angst then i originally intended, promise there will be lots of fluff coming up. 
> 
> up next: Steve and Bucky try to get along and Peggy Carter


	7. Chapter 7

For a week and a half Steve’s able to avoid Bucky. Well, he avoids him as much as it's possible to avoid someone who he lives with and is married to. It mostly works because Bucky seems to be avoiding him too, or at least not seeking him out. 

He’s not sure what Bucky does all day. He’s sure he must spend at least part of the day shadowing King George, just like Steve used to do with his own father before he had his first heat. Besides that, Steve doesn’t have a clue what Bucky occupies his time with. 

Winifred has taken Steve under her wing, one day he’ll be filling her role and obligations. It's not so much different than what his own mother used to do. It’s a lot of having lunches with diplomats and building positive relationships, but his mother always highlighted the importance of that to Steve. 

Steves spends most of his time with Natasha, Sam, Clint, Wanda and Peggy. No one else in the castle seems to pay him much mind, letting him go about his day with no interference. He also meets some of Bucky’s friends, who practically attack him in the hallway when he's going to meet Becca for lunch. He starts laughing harder than he has in a long time when he learns they call themselves the Howling Commandos. 

He sees Bucky in fleeting moments. Feels him crawl into bed long after Steve turned the lamp off, and Steve keeps his body still to not betray the fact he's still awake. Sometimes when he crawls into bed Bucky pulls another blanket over Steve, covering him all the way up to his ears in warmth. 

At first Steve had thought that maybe Bucky was meeting someone. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out Bucky has a nice omega on the side. Besides being the crown prince, he's also extremely handsome, and with alphas there's no expectations about purity. 

He never smells like anyone else when he climbs into bed late at night. Just the warm rich smell that Steves learned to associate with Bucky. 

Bucky gets out of bed before Steve every morning. He’s never been much of  morning person while Bucky seems to prefer to get up with the sun. Steve eats breakfast in bed, his mom used to always say once he was married than he’d be able to eat breakfast in bed. He’s not sure if that something done in Yoshkar but he hardly cares. 

He meets Peggy for lunch. Most of the time she feels like the only person in the entire palace that actually understands what life is like in Mullingar. Peggy’s also incredibly smart and intensely witty. It's incredibly easy to talk with her. 

They’re each having a cup of tea with their late lunch. Steve’s still continuously shocked and horrified to see how few people drink tea in Yoshkar. Peggy expresses a similar sentiment. 

“I was wondering if you’d want to accompany me the day after tomorrow to an orphanage in town,” Peggy asks, “I go there every month or so and give them supplies and the children treats. I know Queen Winifred recommend that you should take on a charity project.” 

“That’d be great,” Steve says with a grin, “I’ve been looking for a project, this will be perfect.” 

“I’m glad,” Peggy says giving a smile of her own before taking a sip of her tea and a bite from one of the small sandwiches that Steve knows are popular in Telford. 

Steve takes a sandwich for himself, “Winifred also wants me to start assembling a household. She said I can only have omega’s and beta’s.” 

Apparently assembling a household is an essential part of integrating himself into society. They’ll be his closest friends, advisories, and confidents in all matters. Winifred had been horrified by the idea of Steve having an alpha in his household, especially an unbound one like Peggy. 

“That doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends,” Steve says earnestly, “I don’t see why it should be anyone's concern.” 

Peggy sighs, “You know why. Do you know who you're going to chose?” 

“Winifred put up a list but half of the people I’ve never met before. I’ve already asked Wanda and Natasha, but outside of that, I’m not entirely sure.” 

“What kind of names has she put forward?” The best thing about Peggy’s friendship is that she already knows everyone. 

“She’s been very insistent on Tony Stark,” Steve grumbles, “apparently Howard Stark thinks I’ll be a settling presence on his son while Winifred's convinced that this will repair the Barnes relationship with the Starks.” 

“Maybe she’s right,” Peggy suggests. 

“That's not the issue,” Steve says. “The issue is that he seems like a total brat, and I’m not sure I have the energy right now to deal with that.” 

Peggy gives a quiet laugh. He’s well versed in her feelings about the entire Stark family. “Are you and Prince James still having issues?” 

“I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to have issues with someone you're not even talking to,” Steve grumbles. 

“Steve, I’m so sorry-” Peggy begins. 

“It's fine, it’s really not that bad,” Steve replies. “Lots of people are married who don’t like each other and they have perfectly happy lives.” 

Peggy gives him a sympathetic smile and Steve almost can’t look at it. In another life he can imagine himself being married to Peggy Carter, how easy that would be. She’s actually the kind of person Steve had always hoped he be with one day, considerate, smart, along with stunningly beautiful. 

He knows he shouldn’t think that way. Bucky’s proven to be nothing but faithful to him even if they don’t talk. Steve know he shouldn't be thinking about loving any other. 

“I have to go,” Steve says checking the time, “Becca has decided that it’s her job to help me get an entirely new wardrobe.” 

“Good luck,” Peggy says with a laugh. Becca’s style is certainly more dramatic than his and he’s a little concerned about the clothes she’ll pick out for him. 

When he arrives in his room she’s already there along with two seamstresses. From there she makes him try on outfit after outfit, all of which she has strong opinions about. He didn’t realise how many events and ceremony there was in Yoshkar, all of which he needs to wear a different outfit for. 

Most of them aren't really his style though he’s much more used to the simple clothes back in Mullingar. The cloths in Yoshkar are certainly more complicated and ornate than what he’s used to. 

Steve’s just about to srip out of a completely horrible tunic when he hears the bathroom door opens. He whirled around to tell Becca that he really prefer if she didn’t watch him change but instead finds Bucky. 

“Oh Sorry!” Bucky’s holding a towel and his hair looks wet from sweat, “Becca said you were in the bedroom.” 

“It’s fine,” Steve says quickly, “i was but I had see this in the full length mirror.” 

“Yes, it’s very-” 

“Orange, horrifying, makes me look like a pumpkin?” Steve fills in. 

Bucky snorts, “I was going to say bright, but pumpkin certainly works. A very cute pumpkin though.” 

Steve flushes slightly under the compliment. The bright orange tunic does make him look like a pumpkin, and the round effect it doesn’t help, Becca had insisted that it would ‘work’ on him and Steve’s proven that to be untrue, “Becca said that orange is essential for the spring festival.” 

“I’m sure an exception can be made for you,” Bucky teases. “Can’t have the prince looking like a pumpkin.”

“It really is terrible,” Steve says turning slightly to see his reflection in every angle. “Becca picked out a yellow one too. Do you want to see it?”  

Bucky grins, “I can’t imagine anything I’d want to see more.” 

Steve finds himself grinning right back.

 

***

 

 

Steve meets Peggy in the courtyard, and Steve’s bundles up in thick winter clothes. He didn’t have enough of his own winter clothes, the ones him and Becca picked up for him are still not ready so Steve snagged a scarf and overcoat from Bucky. The coat hangs off of him, but he’s able to take it off any time he moves inside. 

They pile into the small carriage, it's earlier then Steve would have liked, but Peggy had insisted. The orphanage is deep in the center of the city, and it’s a long time before they get there. Steve's half frozen by the time they arrive. 

As soon as they step out of the carriage they're completely swarmed by children, grabbing at them with a kind of enthusiasm only children are able to posses. Two kids grab onto Steve’s hands and practically pull him towards the orphanage. 

They’re greeted by a middle aged woman and the kids go rushing past her obviously used to her presence. Steve’s a little unfamiliar with all the commotion having grown up an only child. There had been other kids at the castle, but it had always been difficult for him to make friends because of how often he got sick. 

“Steve, this is Mrs. Parker, she’s one of the nurses here,” Peggy says motioning to the woman who gives them a warm smile. 

“Lady Carter, Prince Steve, it’s wonderful to have both of you here,” She says giving them a slight bow, “If you’d follow me to the study, it will give us a chance to speak somewhere more quiet.” 

They follow her into the small study sitting down around an old wooden desk. There are books lining the walls along with other nick nacks and art that Steve can only assume was made by some of the kids. 

“I’m so glad you're both here! With winter approaching adoption always goes down and the amount of children seem to go up,” Mrs. Parker says with a sigh. 

Steve nods along with her words, “I want to do anything I can to help.” 

“Our biggest concern right now is having enough food,” Mrs. Parker replies. “With recent shortages in fruits and vegetables were worried we won’t be able to feed all the kids. We’ve picked some vegetables but no where near enough.”

“Is that a common issue in Yoshkar?” Steve asks. In Mullingar they’re able to grow food almost all year, and only during a few short months during the winter do they have to rely on preserves and scarce foods able to grow during those months. 

“Winters have been coming earlier and lasting longer over the last few years, so growing enough food has become an issue,” Mrs. Parker explains. 

“Telfords been supplying some food through trade deals, but there isn’t enough food production to support Yoshkar’s needs,” Peggy explains. 

Steve’s still not entirely sure how much his title as a diplomatic representative to Mullingar actually means. Considering he hasn’t been invited to any council meetings or a meeting with any other diplomats, besides Peggy, he assumes not very much. Even with that Steve is going to try his best to help orphanage. 

“I’m not sure how much I can really do, but I’ll do everything I possible can,” Steve promises, “I can certainly ask James to speak with his father too.”

Mrs. Parker's just about to speak when the door to the study opens revealing a man around Steve's own age. He has a mop of brown hair and, based on his scent, Steve can tell that he’s an unmated omega. 

“Aunt May have you seen my-” he stops quite suddenly when he notices Mrs. Parker's not alone, “Oh sorry! I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“It’s fine Peter,” Peggy says smiling. “You can come in if you like. This is Prince Steve.”

At first Peter holds out his hand for Steve to shake and the his face turns to horror and he gives Steve an awkward half bow, “Sorry… I’ve never met a prince before so I’m not entirely sure what to do.”

Steve can’t help but start laughing and Peter looks even more horrified, “It's alright, we can shake hands if you like.”

As soon as their hands meet, Steve feels the shock of energy that comes from a powerful mage. Even with the suppressor bracelets, with skin contact with someone with so much magic he can feel it run all through his body, “Oh, you're a mage?”

“I have magic, but I don’t have any training,” Peter explains. 

“Both of Peter's parents were mages, but they passed away before they could teach him anything,” Mrs. Parker adds in. It still doesn’t make sense to Steve. Back in Mullingar there were enough magic schools and private tutors that anyone who had magic could learn. 

“Is there no magic school here?” Steve questions, he thought people in Yoshkar had one application for magic users. 

Mrs. Parker sighs, “There are but unfortunately they're too expensive for us to afford.”

“Everyone has a right to an education,” Steve says feeling suddenly defiant. “If you’d like Peter I’d be honoured to teach you.”

“Really?” Peter's eyebrows are practically at his hairline, “You mean at the palace?”

“Yes,” Steve finds himself smiling. “Come whenever you want and as often as you want.”

“Thank you,” Peter say earnestly, “Thank you so much!”

They spend some more time speaking briefly with Mrs. Parker before leaving. On their way out they hand out small caramel candies that are popular in the Vale. The kids seem delighted by them, quickly shoveling them into their mouths before asking for more. 

Steve feels a little teary eyed when he finally detangles himself from the kids and climbs back into the carriage. Peggy wears a similar look on her face, and before they leave, they promise Mrs. Parker that they’ll be back soon. 

The castle feels eerily quiet when they get back, no enthusiastic kids running through the halls. A sudden sweep of loneliness wraps around him as he heads back to his rooms. Since being in Yoshkar he’s gotten used to being by himself, and getting out of that was like a shock to his system, he’s not really sure how to go back to it. 

Steve’s surprised when instead of an empty room, he finds Bucky lounging on the couch with a box open. He gives Steve a surprisingly sweet smile, and Steve can’t help but frown at the sudden shift. Bucky’s been avoiding him for a week, and now he’s giving him a smile like he lights up his world. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve says accusatory while unwinding the scarf from his neck. 

Bucky rolls his, but it seems good natured, “What? Am I not even allowed to look at you?”

“That's not what I meant,” Steve practically groans out, “I don’t even know what I mean.”

Bucky seems to go back to his book, and Steve continues to strip out of several layers. It's warm in their rooms but if Steve had his magic he could make it even warmer. “You're wearing my clothes.”

Steve turns to look at Bucky who's giving him a sly smile, “I didn’t have anything else warm enough. It never gets this cold in Mullingar.” 

“You look good in my clothes,” Bucky says it so off handedly it takes his brain a minute to catch up. Bucky’s book is abandoned on the arm of the couch and Steve knows he’s blushing under the force of Bucky’s gaze. He’s stunned when Bucky reaches forward and reels him in closer by his waist. 

Steves never been kissed before. It's little more than a press of lips as Bucky presses his palm to Steve's cheek. His other hand is wrapped securely around Steve's waist, fingers digging into his side slightly. Steves all but leans forwards, Bucky’s still sitting on the couch, and Steve finds himself grasping at Bucky’s shoulder with his body resting between two thighs. 

“Bucky,” the words little more than a breath, “Why are you doing this?’

Bucky presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Because you look good in my cloths, you smell good, and you're my husband.” 

Steve pulls back slightly mind feeling jumbled, “I’m not sure - I’ve never done anything like this before and I don’t even know you Bucky. I can’t just jump into something like this.” 

Bucky leans back away from Steve, back hitting coach with a quiet thud. He looks tired suddenly, the flirty exterior gone completely, “You're right, we don’t know each other at all, and that's my fault. I haven’t really been a very good husband.”

“Maybe we could start over,” Steve suggests, “Maybe we could start just being friends, and see where that takes us.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, and he’s smiling again, “If I wasn’t here right now what would you be doing?”

“Usually I go to the greenhouse and sketch, or have a cup of tea and read,” Steve doesn't mention the fact that he often looks though the book Dr. Erskine gave him. He’s not entirely sure why, but he has a feeling Bucky’s not quite a fan of magic, and the fact that Steve is is still wearing suppressor bracelets is a good indication. 

Bucky nods, and grabs his coat from wear it's hanging up, “Alright. To the greenhouse.” 

Steve had stumbled across the greenhouse on his third day. In Mullingar he’d always liked drawing in the garden. But when he got to Yoshkar, he quickly realised that there was a thin layer of snow covering everything. The greenhouse is packed with all kinds of flowers and herbs along with being toasty warm it was perfect. 

There's several little stone benches that Steve and Bucky sit on. Bucky brought his book with him, and as soon as they’re in the greenhouse he begins reading. Steve opens up his sketchpad to an unfinished drawing of several chrysanthemums. He easily gets absorbed in his drawing, sketching some lines and drawing new ones. 

“Steve, that's amazing,” Bucky says pulling him from his drawing daze. Steve flushes under the compliment, he doesn't usually show people his art, so isn’t really use to receiving praise.

“Thanks, it's a chrysanthemum,” Steve says just incase Bucky wasn’t able to tell. 

“National flower of Mullingar,” Bucky says and Steve surprises that he knows that. He’s pretty sure most people in Mullingar don’t know that. 

“Right,” Steve says slowly as he fixes one line of the stem, “What's the national flower of Yoshkar?” 

“The Yarrow. Here I’ll show you,” Bucky says standing up leading Steve through the green house. It takes them a couple of minutes to find it, they're small little flowers in white, pink and yellow. They're pretty and more dainty then he would have expected. 

Steve sits down to draw them, leaning up against Bucky slightly because there's no bench. Bucky doesn’t seem to mind instead simply opens his book back up again and begins to read. 

He only stops drawing when it has become too dark to really see anything. Bucky takes Steve's hand in his as they trudge through the snow from the greenhouse back to the main castle. Bucky’s fingers are surprisingly warm where they touch Steve's, and he finds himself clutching tighter. 

They both change into nicer clothes for dinner, and it's not until Steve's fully dressed again that Steve realises how tired he is. He flops down on the edge of the bed and watches as Bucky does up the buttons on his dinner jacket. 

Bucky comes over to him and slowly pushes his fingers through Steve's hair messing it up completely, “You tired?”

Steve makes a humming noise in agreement but finds himself getting lost in the feeling of Bucky’s fingers in his hair. It reminds Steve of something his mother used to do when he was a kid. 

“Let's eat really fast so we can come back and lay in bed,” Bucky says and Steve lets out a snort of laughter as he sits up. He still feels unusually exhausted and he’s heading into dizziness. His only hope is that he’s not getting sick. 

Winifred seems delighted when she sees Bucky and Steve walking in together. Steve tries to muster up enough energy to return her smile, instead he sort of slops into his seat. He sees Bucky give him a concerned look out of the corner of his eye. 

He mostly lets the conversation go on without him, finding it difficult for his brain to follow along. Steve finds he’s not particularly hungry but slowly tries to eat everything on his plate anyways. 

“Steve? Sweetheart are you feeling all right?” Winifred asks giving him a concerned look from across the table. 

“I’m just feeling a little tired,” Steve says slowly getting up from his seat as the dizziness becomes more intense, “I think it might be best if I go lay down.”

“I can come with you,” Bucky suggests already halfway out of his seat. Steve waves him off but finds himself swaying and braces himself against Bucky’s outstretched hand. Bucky has a firm grip on him but he feels the floor shifting out from under him. 

Someone says his name, but he can’t tell where the noise is comes from. Bucky’s hand around his waist is the lasting thing he remembers before everything goes black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger  
> thanks to low_key_nerdy for editing this chapter. as usual next chapter should be done in about a week! 
> 
> up next: things get worse before they get better


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky picks Steve up right under his knees. His mother cries out as Bucky gets Steve situated in his arms, trying to keep his head propped up. Becca looks stunned sitting completely still in her seat. Bucky feels equally as shocked. He doesn’t know what to do with Steve bundled in his arms. 

He’s surprised when his father's the one to finally speak up, “Winfred, Becca go get a healer. Bucky we need to take Steve to your rooms and lay him down.”

Everyone jumps into action at his father's words. Bucky makes sure Steve’s securely wrapped in his arms before practically sprinting back to their room. He’s glad it’s close and tries his best to keep Steve from bouncing to much. He lays him carefully in bed, tucking two pillows behind his head. 

“Steve, Stevie wake up,” Bucky begs. He hates the lifeless form Steve’s body taken on, looking far to dead for Bucky’s preference. 

Steve's eyes open slowly as a furrow appears between his brows. Bucky feels a wash of tension leave his body as Steve struggles to sit up, “Bucky what's going on? My head hurts so much.” 

The scent of distressed omega is filling up his nose and he flutters around Steve awkwardly, unsure how to make him feel better, “You fainted doll. The healers are going to be here in a minute. They're going to make you feel better.”

He’s not prepared for Steve to wrap his arms around Bucky and press his face into his chest. So far Steve's shown no interest in wanting to touch Bucky, especially after the way he reacted to the kiss. Now Steve makes a distressed noise until Bucky wraps his arms around him in return. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Steve hisses and Bucky moves away just in time to avoid Steve throwing up all over him. Steve makes a pained noise as he gags again but his stomach is to empty to throw up anything else. 

There are healers suddenly bustling around them, pulling Steve out of Bucky’s arms. He gets pushed out of the way in an attempt for the healers to get to Steve, he almost protests until he realises it was Dr. Banner that pushed him. Unlike most healers Dr. Banner has training in both healing with and without magic making him supremely qualified. He’s the only one Bucky trust to take care of Steve. 

Eventually Bucky gets forced out of the room, something about his pheromones throwing off the healers. He hovers awkwardly by the door trying to listen in on what's happening inside. 

After a long while Dr. Banner opens the door, nearly hitting Bucky in the face. He gives Bucky a weary look that makes his chest feel tight, “it appears as though Steve’s contracted the Fever.”

“From where?” they haven’t had a breakout in the castle for years. When Bucky was a little boy, and contracted the disease himself, the highest precautions were set to make sure the Fever doesn’t make its way into the castle. 

“Him and Lady Carter went to an orphanage in the northern quarter this morning.” He looks over to his mother who he hadn’t even heard come into the room. She looks distresses, the kind of weariness a parent feels for their child. She had attached herself to Steve quickly but he hadn’t realised how deep those feelings went. 

“There's been symptoms of the Fever in the north corridor recently,” Bucky says half to himself before turning to Dr. banner, “Can the fever really come on this quickly?”

“Yes, it's highly contagious. Any of our healers that have never had the Fever before are going to leave. The chance of it spreading is very likely to happen,” Bucky nods along to Dr. Banner's words, but his heads already somewhere else. 

Bucky pushes past his mother, overcome with the knowledge that Peggy Carter put steve's life in danger. There's also an intense jealousy resting all of that which makes him want to tear something apart. 

Peggy has a house in the city but an office and bedroom in the castle. It's still early enough that he would not be entirely surprised if she's still in the castle. He doesn’t give a second thought about throwing open the doors to her study without even a knock. 

She stands up from her desk in surprise, “Prince James what are you doing here? I heard what happened to Steve, how is he doing?”

“He has the Fever,”Bucky comes to stand in front of her, anger practically radiating off of him. He’s sure Peggy can smell the frustration and distress on him. 

“Oh dear,” Peggy murmurs, “is there anything i can do?”

“You took him into a city, to an area with known cases of the Fever, and now he’s sick,” Bucky hisses at her, “You didn’t even ask my permission.”

Peggy scoffs at him, “I didn’t know that I had to get permission to talk to Steve.”

“Don’t turn this back on me. I know you're infatuated with him, and I’ve stayed out of the way, because Steve needs your friendship, but I can’t let you put his life in danger. He’s my husband, not yours, which means it's my responsibility to look after him,” slowly the angers been leaving him and finally he slumps in on himself, completely exhausted. He tries to keep his alpha instincts under control, but in moments like this it runs wild.

Peggy seems shaken by his words and sits back down heavily, “I’m sorry, I don’t want to hurt Steve.”

“I know,” bucky says with a sigh, “you should get a healer and make sure you aren't showing an signs of the Fever.”

Bucky leaves and closes the door carefully behind him. With all his anger gone his thoughts are drawn completely back to Steve, specifically the image of him dropping completely lifelessly into bucky arms, it’s not something he’ll ever be able to forget.  

Dr. Banner's talking quietly with his mother in the sitting room, but both of them grow silent as Bucky enters the room. He feels overwhelmed by exhaustion and worry and simply wants to crawl into bed and wrap steve up in his arms. 

“How’s he doing?” Bucky asks noticing that the healers are no longer bustling through their chambers. 

“We’ve given him all that his body can take for now. He’s going to be in out of consciousness, so I’d advise having someone with him at all times incase he’s confused when he wakes up,” Dr. Banner says. 

“Alright,” Bucky’s already walking away overwhelmed with the need to get to Steve. He’s not someone whose alpha instincts often take over, muddling the more analytic aspects of his brain. Now though, he has a one track mind, with his urge to protect and care dictating his every action. 

“The healers will be back every four hours,” Dr. Banner reminds Bucky before turning back to his mother and continuing their quiet conversation. Bucky slips into his bedroom and gently shuts the door behind him. He quickly changes into sleep clothes before slipping into bed beside Steve. 

He spends the next four hours hovering between awake and asleep. Everytime Steve so much as shifts Bucky finds himself awake, pulling up the pile of blankets to make sure he's warm enough, or having him drink little sips of water. Dr. Banner comes in several time to make sure Steve's condition hasn’t worsened. 

Steves been asleep for about an hour when the healers come swarming in again. His face in pressed into Bucky’s shoulder, and he can feel the heat radiating off his body. He hasn’t vomited again. Bucky thinks that might be because there's nothing left in his stomach. Somewhere along the way he developed a cough and it makes his whole body shake disturbingly. 

Bucky had never noticed how thin steve is until their bodies are pressed close together. He knows it's considered stylish for omegas to be small and waif like, but Steve seems painfully skinny. Bucky’s worried that any wrong move and he could break him. 

One of the healers helps him pull Steve into a sitting position, making sure to stack pillows behind him, and keep him wrapped in the warm folds of the blankets. Steve makes feeble protests at being woken up, but allows the healers to force an array of teas and juices to him along with rub his body down with healing salts. 

Steve only really protests when they try to make him drink something completely black. In the lamplight, Bucky can only tell that it resembles tar, and even he wants to tell the healer to get that away from Steve. 

Eventually steve starts to sag, unable to keep his eyes open. Bucky pulls Steve between his legs, and lets him rest against his chest in an attempt to keep Steve completely upright. Steve's body is mostly limp as Bucky takes the cup out of his hands and helps him drink the last of the lemon scented tea. 

With the tea gone Steve's allowed to lay back down, though with gentle coaxing from Bucky, and less gentle demands from Dr. Banner, his head remains resting on a pile of pillows to help him breathe easier. 

“How’s he doing?” Bucky asks in a hushed voice not to disturb Steve, who’s already fallen back to sleep. 

“He hasn’t gotten worse,” Dr. Banner admits, though the way he says it, doesn’t make it sound like a positive thing, “With all the concentrated magic going into his magic he should already be showing signs of improvement. The Fever typically only persists when untreated.” 

“What can I do?” Bucky asks, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. The exhaustion from being awake almost the whole night is settling in heavily and making it difficult for Bucky to concentrate. 

Dr. Banner looks equally as exhausted, “For now let him rest. Sleep will help.”

Bucky lays back down, curling around Steve in an attempt to act like a human blanket. His inability to do anything makes him vibrate with anxiety. He feels both weak and useless with the realization that the situation is completely out of his control. 

Steve turns slight onto his back and further into Bucky’s body, “Bucky? Are you there?”

“Yeah, Stevie I’m here,” Bucky murmurs quietly as he takes Steve's slightly clammy hand in his. Steve gives his hand a gentle squeeze before going back to sleep.

 

 

***

 

 

For two days Bucky doesn’t leave Steve’s side. He’s there when Steve throws up soup, which is more broth than anything else, for the hundredth time. He’s also their when the healers try to make him drink the black tar tea, and as Dr. banner's expression becomes increasingly more concerned as they days pass. 

Steve shows no signs of getting better, and mostly remains in a state of half consciousness. Bucky reads to him when he’s at his most awake state. He doubts Steve’s absorbing any more than half the things he says. 

Bucky doesn’t have any practice caring for anyone else, he’s never had to before. He’s not entirely sure how to take care of Steve even with careful instruction from the healers and Dr. Banner. He always feels like he should be doing more. 

His mother comes in and looks after Steve long enough for Bucky to take a warm bath and change into a new pair of clothes. Having two children of her own, both of who survived the Fever, she’s certainly more equipped to take care of Steve than he is. 

“I don't know how to help him,” Bucky admits, keeping his voice quite so Steve doesn’t hear. He wants Steve to believe that he’s competent and completely able to look after him the way he needs. 

“I felt just as lost when you and Becca had the Fever. You just have to try to do whatever you think is best and hope that's enough,” his mother admits with a gentle smile. Even with her admission he still feels painfully useless. 

Dr. Banner comes back in with a young woman on his heals. She wears the badge showing her as a healer, but Bucky’s never seen her before. She ignores Bucky completely instead choosing to go over and inspect Steve, doing the same things he’s already watched a dozen healers do. 

“This is Dr. Cho,” Dr. Banner explains, “She specialises in the healing of mages. I called her in to inspect Steve.” 

The fact that Dr. Banner felt the need to call in a specialist makes him nervous. Bucky already knew that the fact Steve wasn’t showing any signs of improvement was worrisome, but he’d done his best to compartmentalize that and focus on taking care of Steve any way he could. 

“How long has he had these on,” Dr. Cho asks motioning to Steve’s suppressor bracelets. They’re thin and bright gold, and if unaware of what they are, one would most likely assume they’re stylish jewelry. 

Bucky shrugs, “A month, maybe more. I’m not sure when my father decided to have him wear them.” 

Dr. Cho wears a displeased look on her face, but doesn’t ask any further questions. Bucky hasn’t really stopped to consider the suppressor bracelets, mostly because he’s not unhappy Steve’s wearing them. He doesn’t actually have a good relationship with magic. 

She does several more tests, including giving Steve some blue power which makes him cough considerably for several minutes. Steve even coughs some of the blue powder onto her sterile grey tunic, and for some reason, Bucky feels a little smug about that. 

“These need to come off,” Dr. Cho says, “From what I can tell,  not only are they blocking his magic, but stopping him from fully accepting magic from others. Without them he may even be able to self heal.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Bucky’s not sure if his father will allow that. Bucky’s also not completely sure he’s ready for that. 

“Then you need to start to prepare yourself for the reality that he might not get better,” Dr. Cho says sharply, “Not having his magic is only going to continue to make him weaker as time goes on. Honestly I’m surprised he’s doing as well as he is.” 

Bucky inhales a tight breath, Steve laying there lifelessly isn’t really what Bucky would associate with doing well. He can’t quite comprehend that Steve could get any worse. 

“I know you're not exactly a fan of magic,  but this might be the only way to help him,” Dr. Banner says, “Think about it carefully before making a decision.” 

Bucky nods in agreement as both Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner leave. He climbs back into bed next to steve who rolls over until he’s half on top of bucky. 

He doesn’t think much of it until he realizes Steve's sniffles aren't just from his cold, but from crying quietly. Steve presses his face firmly against Bucky's chest and pulls the covers up around his head. 

“Steve?” he asks quietly trying to unbury him from the blanket, “Whats wrong? Does something hurt?”

He’s quiet for a long minute and his voice is hoarse and not much more than a whisper, “I miss my ma.”

Bucky can’t think to do anything, but wrap Steve up tightly in his arms, and rock him back and forth slowly. It only seems to make Steve cry harder, now letting out loud sobs. Bucky tries his best to whisper comforting words while slowly scratching Steve's back. He’s not sure how to comfort someone who’s crying. 

“I just want to go home,” Steve says before shuddering sobs, “I just want to see my ma again.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky mummers not sure what else he can say, “I’m so so sorry Steve. I wish I could help you - I wish I knew how to.”

It takes a while for Steve to cry himself out and eventually succumb to his exhaustion. Bucky carefully rolls Steve off of him and slips out of bed. He throws a coat on before leaving their chambers. 

Bucky may not feel comfortable with magic, but he can’t bare to watch Steve suffer any longer. If taking off the suppressor bracelets is the only chance of helping Steve feel better, then he has to do it. 

He tells one of the maids to get Natasha, following Dr. Banner's instructions about not leaving Steve alone. She comes after a few minutes, giving him an inquisitive look, but doesn't ask him any further questions. 

He has right to his father's private study, and he opens the doors without bothering to knock. He’s not at all surprised to see Alexander standing beside his father, reading a piece of parchment on the desk. 

“James? Whats going on? Has something happened to Steve?” his father asks seeming startled at the fact that Bucky just burst into the room. 

“Steve’s suppressor bracelets are keeping him from getting better,” Bucky says in a single rushed breath, “They need to come off, otherwise, he won’t be able to get better. The suppressor bracelets are blocking any magic from coming in.” 

“Who told you this?” his father questions. He doesn't sound as angry as Bucky thought he would. He expected him to reject the idea of taking the bracelets off before they could even discuss it. 

“Dr. Banner had Dr. Cho come in and examine Steve. She’s studied how to heal mages, I trust her opinion,” Bucky says trying to reassure his father. 

“She’s a mage as well. How do you know she’s not simply lying to you?” Alexander asks. Bucky can’t say he’s surprised to see him taking the opposing side. “Perhaps she wants to use Steve’s magic to her own advantage.” 

“Maybe, but I can’t risk it,” Bucky sends a sharp look over to Alexander, “He’s my husband. You can’t expect me not to do everything in my power to make him better.” 

He’d worried about leaving his father to think about it, especially with Alexander in the room. Bucky eyes Alexander suspiciously, who face remains carefully blank, not betraying anything that he may be feeling. 

“Dr. Cho’s a well respected professional, and I trust her opinion,” his father says slowly, “If she thinks that it’s necessary, then it’s necessary. We’ll revisit the problem once Steve’s  completely better.” 

Bucky can tell that Alexander’s  practically steaming though he doesn’t go against the king. He may have Alexander to thank for his arm but he still knows that he’s not trustworthy, supporting his own hidden agenda. The only problem is Bucky’s not entirely sure what that agenda is. 

“Go get Zola,” his father tells Alexander, “There's no point in waiting any longer.” 

Alexander comes back with Zola, who never seems to be lurking far away. He’s not a mage which must mean there's a non magical element that keeps Steve from being able to remove the bracelets. 

Steve’s only half awake when they get back, mumbling something unintelligible to Natasha. He’s awake enough that when Zola comes to stand over him he tries to swat at him half heartedly. He hears Natasha snort when Steve almost slaps Zola’s nose. 

“How are you going to remove the bracelets?” Bucky asks not happy with the way Zola’s loitering over Steve. He doesn’t even like when Zola works on his arm, and he definitely doesn’t like Zola touching Steve. 

“As the creator the bracelets will come off with my touch,” Zola explains, “I am also the only one that can put them back on.” 

Zola reaches forward, grabbing both at the same time. Steve’s body goes stiff and Bucky one second away from jumping in and stopping him. The metal cuffs, only a second before, looked harsh and intimidating on Steve’s thin wrist, but now, they seem as though they could have easily been broken, not much stronger than glass. 

For a second nothing happens and then every object in the room levitates off the ground. The only person who doesn’t look surprised is Natasha who seems surprisingly calm surrounded by levitating objects. 

Everything hits the ground with a loud thud, books once on the nightstand are on the floor, and a basin, that was filled with water, hits the ground and shatters into a million peices. Steve’s wide awake, sitting up completely. 

“Steve?” Bucky asks tentatively, “How are you feeling?” 

He still looks exhausted, but he’s fully awake now. He flexes his hands carefully as though they had been numb before, and only now gaining feeling in them. He gives Bucky a wide eyed look, blinking at him owlishly. 

Steve lays back slowly into the mound of pillows, “I feel so much lighter.”

Something heavy settles in Bucky’s stomach. He should have demanded those bracelets be off taken earlier, before the wedding. He shouldn’t have been so afraid of what could happen. 

“You're never going to have to wear them again,” Bucky promises even though it's not really something he can guarantee, “You're going to get better, and then you’ll be able to use your magic again.” 

He’s not expecting for Steve to pull him down into a hug. It's awkward, with Steve still sitting on the bed and Bucky leaning over him. Steve has a firm grip on his shoulders, and Bucky finds himself nuzzling into Steve's slightly sweaty hair. 

Steve lets out a shuddering sigh and and whispers ‘thank you’ over and over again. The guilt still hangs heavily over Bucky about not taking the bracelets off as soon as he could. Bucky hadn’t realised how much of an effect they had really had. 

Natasha had warned him ignoring Steve's magic wasn’t going to help him in the long run. Now it seems so clear what he should have done. Bucky is starting to wonder if he’s ever going to stop making mistakes when it comes to Steve. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and thank you for all the wonderful comments and kudos that were left. next chapter as always should be out in about week. Thank you as always to Low_key_nerdy for editing this chapter!
> 
> Steve finally got his suppressor bracelets so more magic coming up soon.   
> up next: basically fluff


	9. Chapter 9

After the bracelets come off it only takes a few days before Steve's completely better. Bucky hovers over him, and it becomes increasingly awkward as Steve starts to get better. Steve feels like he should be looking after Bucky, he’s not sure how to be looked after by someone else.

Natasha and Wanda come and visit two days after the bracelets come off. He’s a little bit surprised when Wanda climbs up into the bed beside him, displacing Bucky from his spot, who instead, sits glumly in a chair in the corner. Wanda carefully fills him in on every piece of gossip he missed. Steve’s not entirely sure how she knows all that she does. He swears she’s a mind reader. 

In turn Natasha fills him in on more official business. Unlike Wanda, who's not allowed to attend council meetings, (she’s an omega and she lacks diplomatic status) Natasha spends most of her days dealing with the council. 

“Some of the diplomats from the northern provinces have talked about proposing a trade deal with Mullingar,” Natasha informs him. Bucky seems to perk up at this, sitting up from where he’s been slumped in a chair, glaring at the ground. He’s making his displeasure at being replaced well known. 

“What kind of trade deal?” Steve asks as he takes a sip of overly bitter tea, face scrunching up unattractively at the taste. 

Natasha shrugs slightly, “Not sure yet. They know I’ve joined your house and, because of that, they aren't telling me everything.” 

Steve already asked Natasha and Wanda to join his house, his inner circle, of friends and advisors. He had known that there would be repercussions and had warned her accordingly. Natasha had brushed off his concern with a practiced disinterest. 

“Sorry,” Steve feels compelled to apologize even though both of them are aware it's out of his control, “You’ll tell me if you hear anything else?” 

“Of course,” Natasha promises. Her feet are propped up on the bed and she wiggles her dainty toes, curling them open and closed as she listens to Steve and Wanda talk. For some reason Steve finds himself captivated by the movement. The elegance and flexibility of the movement is difficult to ignore. 

“I want you to teach me how to fight,” the idea comes to him seemingly out of nowhere, “You told me they trained omegas in the mountains.” 

Natasha doesn’t even get to respond before Bucky interrupts, “Steve you can’t just learn how to fight. You're still sick and beside-”

“Besides what? I’m an omega?” Steve quickly snaps back. 

Bucky slumps lower in his chair at Steve tone, “I mean, besides I have my own trainer, who could train who how to fight, instead of Natasha.”

Steve instantly feels bad at snapping at Bucky. He's used to alphas pushing him around and belittling him. He’s not entirely sure how to deal with Bucky treating him like an equal. Steve spent his whole life being defensive it's hard for him to turn it off. 

“Sorry,” Steve murmurs though Bucky’s already loss the rejected look, “That sounds great too Buck.”

Natasha goes over a few more matters of business before Bucky not so subtly tells Wanda and Natasha it's time to leave. He putters around the room before finally settling beside Steve in bed, leaving a valley of space between them. 

“You're going to take a nap?” Bucky asks. Though he’s pretty sure Bucky meant it as a suggestion, it ends up sounding more demanding. Maybe he still feels bad for snapping at Bucky prematurely, so he doesn’t say anything. 

“What are you reading?” Steve asks as he scoots closer, bridging the gap between them with subtle movements. Some part of Steve had gotten used to being close to Bucky, even though his brain may no longer be filled with illness, he finds himself scooting closer. Before long he’s curled into Bucky’s side, head resting against his shoulder. 

“The Mystery of Hora Mountain,” Bucky says as he curls his fingers against Steve back and scratches gently. It takes all of his self control not to purr. “Lord Cage is trying to solve the mystery of who murdered his wife. I’m on the fifth book.”

Steve lets out a snort of laughter, and Bucky gives him a raised eyebrow, “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve reassures, but he has to press his face into Bucky’s shoulder to keep himself from outright laughing. Steve finds Bucky’s obsession with terrible mystery novels extremely endearing. 

“Go to sleep,” Bucky says giving Steve a fake frown and poking him in the side, “Cage is about to discover his wife’s killer’s hideout, so I can’t have you distracting me.”

Steve pokes Bucky in the chest in retaliation, but lets him go back to his book. Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair playfully before settling his arm back around him. He’s starting to think that maybe Bucky's attention isn’t so bad. 

  
  
***  
  


 

Steve sitting on the couch, sketchbook folded in his lap, when a maid comes in and hands him a letter. He opens it quickly. Steve and his mother write each other daily, but he knows it's not from her,  he would recognize her delicate cursive anywhere. 

“Who's it from?” Bucky asks trying to catch a glance of the letter. Steve pulls the letter out of his gaze in retaliation even though the letter doesn’t hold anything secret, it's more playful and agonizing than anything else. Bucky lets out a huff and shifts his feet, which were resting on the coffee table. 

“Tony stark,” Steve replies as he sets down the note again, “He wants to meet with me and have a late lunch.”

Bucky lets out an annoyed groan, “He’s such a brat!” he whines. Steve rolls his eyes at his childish antics, even if some part of him finds it hilariously endearing. 

“It's not like you're the one who has to has to have lunch with him.” Steve closes his sketchbook, he’s been pretending to draw a vase of flowers, but really, he has a detailed sketch of Bucky’s jaw line. “He can’t really be that bad.”

Bucky gives a dry laugh, “You have no idea. I’ve never had a conversation with him that didn’t end with me feeling the need to punch something.”

“I’m going to have to get dressed,” Steve complains, “I hate getting dressed.”

Even though it's been a few days since Steve's been sick, he still hasn’t left his chambers, or attempted to do anything warranting more than casual clothes. 

Even though it's edging into the afternoon, Steve and Bucky are still wearing their pajamas, robes casually draped over their shoulder to keep out the cold. 

“Sorry Doll,” Bucky says, as he turns another page of his book, “Just ignore half of what Stark says, and it should be fine.”

Steve knows he’s blushing at the affectionate nickname. Bucky’s used it a few times, and each time it sends a shiver down his spine. Part of Steve feels as though he should be resisting, that by liking the nickname he's no more than a submissive little omega. He can’t help but admit that he likes the nicknames, likes how they make him feel. 

He practically rolls off the couch, heading into their chamber and ringing for one of the maids. He gets dressed in an ornate tunic and legging combination, what he’s come to know as standard male omega clothing. Feminine enough to keep male alphas from feeling as though omega’s are threatening their masculinity while not completely ignoring the fact that their men too. 

Steve admires his reflection in the mirror, the light blue of the tunic matching his eyes. Though he may recognize that the clothes are a standard pushed upon omegas by alphas to keep up the appearance of submissiveness and weakness, he also recognizes that their not completely unflattering. 

He lets the maid put light bangles on his wrists. He’s pretty sure they were a wedding present. He even lets her gently line his eyes with a small black pencil. In Mullingar both male and female omegas wore makeup, typically only after they were married, so he now allows himself to bask in the tradition. 

Bucky is still sitting on the couch, book open and a plate of half eaten bread and jam sitting on his lap precariously. The smile he gives Steve makes his chest feel tight, and he’s pretty sure he’s blushing bright red. 

As Steve comes to stand by Bucky who carefully takes one of Steve’s hands in his, curling their fingers together carefully. Their hands fit together well, Steve's bony fingers fitting carefully around Bucky’s. He finds that he can’t help but smile back. 

“You look real nice,” Bucky says, voice fond and affectionate with a small smile.

“Thanks,” Steve murmurs back just as fond. He wants to reach forward and take Bucky’s metal hand in his, link them together in an even sturdier way. Steve wants to curl up in his lap and kiss him all over. He doesn’t though, opting to gently squeeze Bucky’s hand. 

“Have fun,” Bucky says and when he presses a gentle kiss to the back of Steve's hand his heart stops for a second, “Try not to cause too much trouble.”

“Won’t make any promises I can’t keep,” Steve teases. Bucky lets out a snort of laughter. It takes all of Steve's self control to extract himself from Bucky and go meet Tony Stark for lunch. He feels incredibly light and practically floats all the way to the carriage. 

It feels as though Bucky’s courting him, which is ridiculous considering they’re already married, but the affectionate looks, and the way Bucky’s been doting on him, is like something straight out of a romance novel. Its nice and, at least their something like friends now, instead of being at each other's throats all the time. 

Steve knows that soon his heats going to hit and then they’ll be bonded. He’s heard it's one of those experiences that can’t be described, only something that's understandable once it's happened. The idea of being Bucky’s bondmate is far less intimidating and easier to believe that it might not be a bad thing. 

Being bonded is the final binding action that keeps them together. Without it their marriage is still considered not fully formed, and easily broken. Being bonded will also give Steve some much desired power, some authority of his own. 

He meets Tony at a restaurant in the nicest part of the city. The restaurant's seems ridiculously expensive, and if it had been up to Steve they probably would have just eaten in the castle. 

Their sitting in a semi-secluded corner, but before he can even get to the table three individual people stop him and try to start up a conversation. He doesn’t know any of them even though they all claim to have met him at the wedding. He has to weasel his way out of each conversation. 

Stark shakes his hand, which is more professional and clean cut than he usually gets. People tend to assume because he’s an omega he prefers soft touches and simple words, as though a handshake would be to rough of a greeting for him. 

“Let's get right down to buisness,” Stark says, and Steve couldn’t be more on board with that. “The only reason this arrangement was made is because my father hopes your tight southern morals will be imparted onto me, and you’ll somehow convince me to marry Pepper Potts. The only reason your daddy in law wants this is so he can get his hands on some nice Stark technology. He’s just sent your pretty face over to do his bidding.” 

Steve raises one eyebrow. He’s certainly heard rumors about Tony Stark's brashness and “un-omega” like natures but he hadn’t expected to be hit with its full force. And none of that bothers him, but Tony’s snarky tone  _ certainly _ does and the way he  _ assumes _ Steve is King George's little pon. 

“All of that implies that I actually care about what King George wants,” Steve points out, maybe more snarky then he attended. 

“I suppose taking over your kingdom and taking you as a war bride for his son doesn’t make you his biggest fan,” Tony says taking a drink of brandy. Steve's a little horrified Tony’s drinking considering it's not even two o’clock. “That doesn’t mean you won’t do his bidding.”

Steve not entirely sure what to say because if it really came down to it maybe he would do King Georges bidding, especially if it was having Tony Stark as part of his house, “Maybe I would, but I’m certainly not going to do your father's. I don’t know who Pepper Potts is, but I’m not going to try to convince you to marry her or anyone else.”

“Why not?” Tony asks leaning back in his chair, “Setting me up to please good old dad isn’t going to affect you.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Steve admits honestly, “I guess after being forced into my own marriage I’m not really keen on putting anyone else through that.”

Tony gives him a long considering look. Steve takes a slice of bread from the basket, butters it carefully and pretends that Tony’s gaze isn’t bothering him at all. The breads dry and he picks at it half heartedly. 

“Your husband hates me,” Tony points out and Steve's can’t disagree. He’s also starting to realise what Tony’s starting to do here.

“You want me to turn you down from being a member of my house so that your father won’t get mad because you’ll be able to place all the blame on me,” as he speaks he sees Tony’s slick exterior drops for a second and come back within the blink of an eye. 

He snorts, “I think you're severely overestimating how much I care about my father's opinion.”

“I really don’t think I am,” Steve suddenly feels completely exhausted by the entire conversation, “Do what you want. I don’t care. I’m just not willing to be your scapegoat.”

He leaves before Tony can give whatever snarking and unnecessary retort he was planning on giving. His carriage is pulled up to the front of the restaurant. He quickly climbs in, pulling his new winter coat tight around him. 

Steve suddenly feels completely exhausted. Maybe he’s still sick and getting his magic had tricked him into thinking he was better before he really was. Maybe it's the pre-heat slowly creeping up on him, making him feel fuzzy and unexpectedly clingy. 

He rushes back to his room once he’s in the castle, keeping his greetings to Becca when he practically bumps into her in the hallway short and sweet. He practically tumbles his way into his room where he finds Bucky sitting in the same place as before. 

“How’d your lunch go?” Bucky asks giving Steve a sweet smile. 

Steve takes of his coat and scarf and throws them down into the armchair, “You were right. Stark's a complete brat.”

Bucky let out a snort of laughter as he carefully places his book onto the coffee table, “How are feeling?” 

“I really just want to take a nap,” Steve admits letting his shoulders slump, “You could join me, if you want?” 

Bucky seems to perk up at the suggestion and happily follows Steve into their room and lets Steve climb into bed first. It's the need to be clingy, due to pre-heat, that makes Steve happily except Bucky spooning around him, and not complain that he doesn’t need to be protected. 

“You’re in preheat,” Bucky whispers as he tucks his face into Steve’s neck and right up against his scent glands.”

Steve can’t help but let out a pleased sigh, “I tend to get kind of clingy during preheat.” 

Bucky snuggles closer. His metal arm, which is laying over Steve’s side, is surprisingly light. It feels nice and cool against his skin, and he tucks Bucky’s hand against his chest carefully. 

It’s the next day when he’s quietly discussing the possible arrangement forming between the northern provinces and Mullingar when Tony Stark's strolls into the room. He acts a little too much like he’s blessing all of them with his presence. Natasha rolls her eyes and Wanda mostly ignores him.

Steve can’t help but feel like he won, even if what he won was a seriously obnoxious (sort of) friend. By the end of the meeting, he’s using all of his self composure not to punch Tony in the face. But on the bright side, he’s finally surrounding himself with his own band of people.

 

***

 

Ever since his first heat, he’s hated them. Being locked in his room, all alone, with arousal running rampant through him driving him completely crazy. Without an alpha an omega’s heat runs two times longer than normal, and more often than not, he’d spend most of his heat deliriously crying out. 

The fact that Bucky’s going to be here brings him some comfort but also brings about a whole new range of anxieties. Steve’s barely even kissed someone before, so the prospect of full blown heat sex terrifies him. 

In Mullingar, sex wasn’t something that omegas talked about. After his first heat, his mother had given him a book written in an extinct language, filled with poorly drawn diagrams, and was so dusty Steve sneezed for weeks. The book was completely outdated. The only message Steve had picked up was to lay down and take it, try not to offend, and be a sweet little omega. 

Part of him wishes he could talk about it with him mom. Not just about heat sex, but what it is like to be bonded with someone. Besides what he’s been told, that being bonded in indescribable, he doesn’t know anything about it. 

While all of this makes him feel hot with anxiety, it's what could come after his heat that really terrifies him because Steve knows he’s not ready to have a baby. 

He’s always liked babies, kids in general, in an abstract way. He liked their fat cheeks and sweet giggling, but that didn’t mean he wanted one of his own, especially not with someones who is, in more ways than one, a stranger. 

Steve hadn’t imagined a life for himself where at nineteen, he’d be married to someone he barely knows and possibly about to have a pup. He’d always thought, even when he was engaged to Thomas, that he’d have time to himself. That he wouldn’t go from being someone's child, to someone's husband, and finally, to someone's mother. 

He knows he should talk about all of this with Bucky, but their newly formed friendship seems to easily breakable that he goes to Natasha. She’s older then him, certainly more experienced, and the only person he trust to tell him the truth. 

She’s sitting in her private chambers, curled up in a large red arm chair with a catlike grace. Her red hair is in perfectly formed curls around her shoulders, and the book in her lap looks to be in a foreign language. 

“The maid said you wanted to speak with me,” Natasha says closing her book and setting it on the table besides her, “What's going on?” 

“Nothing,” Steve says hurriedly and Natasha raises an eyebrow, “I was just wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tonight?” 

“Sounds good,” Nastah replies but she’s still giving him a watchful look, and he twitched under her gaze, “Did you have a place in mind?” 

Steve feels himself panic slightly because he hadn’t quite thought everything through, “Wherever you want to go is fine. We can eat at the palace or go out somewhere. Whichever you like…” 

“I’ll choose a place. I’ll meet you in your rooms at seven,” Natasha says giving him a clear dismissal as she turns back and begins reading her book. 

Steve feels fidgety as he waits for six o’clock to roll around. He’s glad Bucky’s off attending a council meeting with his father because as Steve’s gotten closer to his heat Bucky’s in turn has gotten closer to his rut. The pheromones make it difficult for Steve to think, muddling up his brain with arousal. 

By the time six rolls around, and Natasha comes, he’s practically radiating with tension. She gives him a quizzical look but doesn’t comment as they climb into a carriage. She tells him briefly about the restaurant, a small place that serves food like they do in the mountains. 

When they arrive Steve sees that she really wasn’t kidding about the place being small. Natasha seems to know the owner who guides them over to a table in the corner, dimly lit  to give them some privacy. 

They each get poured a glass of wine, something from the Vale that tastes a little too sweet. Natasha makes a face after taking a sip and carefully sets her glass back down, probably already preparing to ask for something stiffer. 

“Are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or are we going to sit here like this the entire meal?” Natasha asks giving him an unimpressed look. 

“I don’t want to have a baby!” Steve blurts out, “and I’m worried about having sex with Bucky and what it will be like to be bonded. I’m afraid Bucky’s going to want me to have a pup, and I’m not ready for that yet.” 

Natasha lets out a snort of laughter at his sudden outburst, “I think your going to have to talk with your husband about most of those things if you want anything to change.” 

Steve sinks lower in his chair, “I’m just not sure how to talk with him. It  all just feels so  _ strange _ .” 

“I’ve known James for a long time,  and I think if you talk with him about these things he’ll want to do everything possible to help you,” Natasha says slowly as though she’s considering each word very carefully. 

“You really think so?” Steve still only half trust Bucky and certainly doesn’t know him well enough to be able to tell what he’d think about the situation. To know what he’d want to do. 

“You can’t know for sure unless you ask him,” Natasha says giving him a reassuring smile, “I’ve never had heat sex before, but you need to tell Bucky what you want.”

“I don’t know how to tell him what I want because I don’t even know what I want,” Steve mummers, hating how inexperienced he is. Steve can tell Natasha’s infuriated by the fact that he’s never been allowed to try anything while alphas are allowed to, and are even encouraged, to experience it. 

“Anyone with eyes can see that he cares about you. I’m positive all you have to do is ask him for help,” Natasha explains calmly.  

Steve sighs and fiddles absedinidly with the tablecloth, “I’m not good at asking people for help.”

Natasha gives him a gentle smile, “Maybe it's time for that to change.”

 

***

  
  


Bucky’s sitting in bed blankets pulled up around him and only a single lamp on when Steve returns from dinners. It’s late and because Steve and Natasha spent hours talking. Bucky’s reading though it doesn’t look to be one of his mystery novel but instead something more official. 

He gives Steve a smile, and all that he can think about are Natasha’s words “ _ Anyone with eyes can see that he cares about you _ .” It seems to obvious now when Bucky looks over at him like he’s the sun and moon. 

Steve scurries behind the changing screen, taking longer to undo all the buttons at the back of his tunic without a maid to help him. He slips into pajamas and crawls into bed in order to fend off the cold. 

He turns onto his side and Bucky follows him, placing his papers on the nightstand beside a half empty glass of water. 

“I have to tell you something,” Steve whispers, afraid to let out his carefully held concerns. 

Bucky’s confusion is clear as his brow furrows, “Alright, what's the matter?”

“I don’t want to have a baby,” the words end up crunched together and sounding more like one long sound. 

“You don’t want to have a baby now, or you don’t want to have one ever?” Bucky asks for clarification, sitting up slightly. 

Steve sits up along with him, “I don’t want to have a baby now. I’m not ready to be someone's mother.”

Bucy wipes a hand over his face, “I’m definitely not ready to be someone's parent.” 

“I’m going to be in heat, the chance that I’ll get pregnant…” Steve takes a shuddering breath and Bucky takes Steve hand in his, “I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky smooths his thumb over Steve’s hand, “Becca told me about this tea she’s been drinking that prevents pregnancy. I’ll talk with her tomorrow and see if she can get us some.” 

Steve can’t believe that Bucky’s agreed with him to easily. Steve had expected more of a debate. Bucky’s older than Steve and has never had to concern himself with worrying about giving birth or pregnancy. He’d expected that Bucky would be much more eager to have a child. 

Bucky takes both of Steve’s hands in his and look at him earnestly, “You have to promise that you won't tell anyone. My father’s already been bothering me and Becca about having pups. If he finds out you're both keeping yourself from getting pregnant he’ll be furious.” 

At first he just goes in for a hug, completely overwhelmed by the affection he feels for Bucky. Before he can think about it, Steve finds himself kissing Bucky. It’s mostly uncoordinated, but not as stiff as their first kiss. It only takes seconds before Bucky’s kissing him back with fervor, curling a hand carefully around his jaw, and drawing him closer. 

Steve leans forward so he can wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck, resting on his knees. Bucky wraps a firm arm around Steve’s waist and he can feel the coolness of the metal arm all the way through his shirt. 

When they pull away they're both breathing heavily. Steve’s never even imagined being kissed like that before. He feels warm and tingly and it’s not just from the pre-heat. Bucky’s giving him a dopey smile and Steve’s sure he’s giving him a similar look. 

“I really want you,” Steve murmurs,  tucking his face against Bucky’s shoulder, “But we should stop until you're able to talk with Becca.” 

“Your right,” Bucky replied with a sigh, sliding down until he's laying down with Steve pillowed on his chest, “I really want you too.” 

Bucky curls his fingers lightly in Steve’s hair, and Steve presses his ear to Bucky’s chest so he can listen to his steady heartbeat. Steve fills a little string of hope run through him at he finds himself thinking about love, distant and far off in the future, but now suddenly possible. It was something Steve never thought he’d have, but it's starting to feel increasingly possible. Just on the edge of the horizon. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait lines been really busy recently. hopefully i'll still be able to have the next chapter out by this weekend. as always thanks to low_key_nerdy for editing this chapter and t everyone who left comments and kudos!
> 
> up next: smut?


	10. Chapter 10

 

Bucky wakes up even earlier than normal. The suns just barely begun to rise over the horizon. Steve’s sprawled out next to him, blankets pooled up around his shoulder. Bucky rolls over slightly so that he can press a quick kiss to Steve’s temple before sliding out of bed. 

The kiss from last night is still hot in his mind, the way Steve had curled around him, warm and soft. Bucky knows that it's probably  a little pathetic that a simple kiss gets him so aroused. Steve just drives him crazy in a way that nobody else has before. 

Their bedroom also stinks of heat and rut and he feels the urgency to get those tea leaves from Becca. Based on Steve’s scent, Bucky can guess that he’ll probably be in full blown heat by the afternoon, if not earlier. 

Bucky dresses quickly, throwing on a simple shirt and jacket over his pants. Though there's a fire blazing in almost every room of the castle, along with heat lamps, the hallways are still drafty in the early morning light. The castles mostly empty. He passes a maid who scurries past him, and a few guard just beginning their patrols. 

He goes to the place that he knows Becca likes to spend the early hours of the morning. Both of them have always been early risers, something their mother had subconsciously instilled in them at a young age. She’s from Valmiera, one of the most northern provinces, where there are only a few hours of sunlight. She had taught them the power of using every hour of sunlight. 

Becca’s in the private library, a plate of scones sitting beside her with a book in her lap. She looks up when he comes in, giving him a gentle smile before returning back to her book. She’s still wearing pajamas, hair loose around her shoulders wearing a large robe.

Bucky takes a seat in a large armchair across from her, “Becca I have to talk to you about something, and you have to promise that you won't tell anyone else about it.” 

She gives him an inquisitive look before shutting her book, “What's going on Buck? Are you in some sort of trouble? The Commandos would probably be more equipped to deal with whatever's happening.” 

Bucky ignores her comments and continues on, “You remember that tea you told me about,” she goes completely still at the mention of the contraceptive tea, “Steve’s about to go into heat and I need to get some of it.” 

“Does Steve know you're doing this?” Becca questions, giving him a sceptical look, but she keeps her voice down as she speaks. The castle’s still sleeping, but she’s just as aware of the repercussions if anyone were to find out. 

“Of course,” Bucky can’t even imagine doing something like this behind Steve’s back, “We talked about it and neither of us are ready to have a pup yet. Were just beginning to get used to being married, were not ready to suddenly be parents.” 

“I understand, really I do,” she says and he knows she truly means it. Her and Michael might love each other but that doesn't mean they're ready to jump into having pups, “I have some hidden in my rooms. I’ll go get it and bring it, just wait right here.” 

She slips off of the couch, straightens her robe, and practically tiptoes out of the room. She’s gone for barely five minutes before returning, she has always been a terrible liar, and even now she looks horribly suspicious as she pulls a little drawstring bag from her pocket. The tea leaves are a rich reddish purple and dried to a crisp. 

“Since Steve’s in heat he needs to drink it twice a day, a whole cup,” Becca instructs him, “Not just part of a cup. The entire cup. They might make him feel queasy the first few times, but the feeling should pass after that.” 

She passes him the little draw string bag, and he tucks it carefully into the pocket of his jacket, where he knows it will be safe. 

“Hide it carefully. If anyone finds it, you can’t tell anyone that it came from me!” Becca urges. 

“I won’t,” Bucky promises, “Thank you so much, really Becca, thanks.” 

“It’s no problem really,” Becca says sitting back down in her spot and taking a bite of a scone, “You'd be surprised how many people are taking it. It’s not illegal just not seen as acceptable - especially by father.” 

Bucky nods and steals one of her scones before leaving the room. Back in his own rooms, he shoves the bag of tea leaves behind the sink in the bathroom. He knows not even the maids clean back there. 

Steves still lounging in bed, he’s rolled onto his back and his eyes are half open. Steve gives him a dazed smile as he half hazardly tries to push the blankets off his flushed body. The room feels unusually warm, and as humid as the hottest summer day. 

“Bucky,” Steve whines out, “What are you doing all the way over there? Come back to bed.” 

He crawls up the bed until he’s hovering over Steve who sits up just enough for him to be able to kiss Bucky. He feels Steve claw at his shirt, untucking it from his pants so that Steve has full access to run his hands up the skin of his back. 

It takes all of his self control to pull away from Steve, who lets out a needy moan in return. Steve’s in full blown heat. Meaning for the next two days, Steve’s ability to make logical decisions will be gone. Ruts not nearly as bad, therefore it’s Bucky’s job to take care of Steve. Even if he didn’t want to take care of Steve, his alpha instincts will be in overdrive, the need to protect and breed will be about all he can think off. 

“We need to eat some breakfast first,” Bucky says softly and cups his palm against Steve’s sharp jaw, “We need to keep our strength up.” 

Steve doesn’t protest too much when Bucky extracts himself from Steve to go ring for a maid so he can order breakfast. He also orders a cup of hot warm water and goes to fetch the tea from behind the sink. 

They’re bought oatmeal with cinnamon for Steve, and toast with eggs for Bucky. Bucky knows Steve probably needs more protein than oatmeal can provide, but it’s Steve’s favorite, and he finds that he’s  having a hard time denying him anything. 

It’s takes gentle coaxing from Bucky to get Steve to eat. On the other hand, Steve happily drinks the tea. Bucky’s not entirely sure Steve understands what he’s drinking. Even when Bucky carefully explains it to him, Steve just gives him a dazed smile and buries himself into Bucky’s side.

When they're done he places their cleared dishes in the sitting room, not wanting the maids to come into their room. When he re-enters their room Steve's already sitting up in bed, shirt gone, and pale chest on display. Bucky’s still a little shocked that he can see all of Steve's ribs, his collarbones look particularly skinny. 

Bucky knows he’s grinning as he strips off his own shirt and climbs into bed besides him. Steve gives him a determined kiss, open and wet. Bucky removes his lips from Steve’s to kiss down his neck to his shoulders, which are littered with light freckles. 

Steve lets out little gasps as Bucky follows the trail of freckles down his chest until he reaches the band of his sleep pants. At some point Steve curled his fingers into Bucky’s hair, and has been tugging at it as Bucky sets an open mouth kiss against his ribs. He tugs at the waist of Steve's sleep pants, who only whines, and spreads his legs to give Bucky enough room to settle between them. 

“Can I take these off of you doll?” Bucky asks, already rolling them down slightly so he’s able to kiss Steve's sharp hipbone. Stve’s skin is lovely, soft, and completely unmarred with only light freckles. 

“Please Bucky. Alpha come on. Hurry up,” Steve doesn’t wait for Bucky to move, opting to start pulling his own pants down his thighs. Bucky helps by pulling them off around his feet and throwing them somewhere across the room. 

Bucky would love to hurry the fuck up, he’s almost painfull aroused, but he’d promised himself he’d take this slow. Steve may be in heat, but that doesn’t mean it's not his first time. It's also their first time together, and Bucky wants them to go slow, get used to what it's like being together. 

Steve has no such interest in going slow, his legs are spread, bent at the knee, on Bucky’s sides. He runs his hands down Steve’s thighs to where his cock is flushes and pressed up against his stomach. Like all male omegas, Steve’s cock is smaller, but the perfect size for Bucky to lay down and take it into his mouth. 

When he does Steve cries out, arching back into the pillows, and curling his finger into the sheets. Bucky’s never done this to someone before, but it doesn’t take him long to find a rhythm. He circles his tongue around the head of Steve cock as he pulls of, kissing around his upper thighs. 

The sounds Steve's making are going straight to Bucky’s cock. He moves happily when Steve tugs him up, pressing an array kisses to his face. They're both breathing hard, the very tips of their noises pressed together. 

“I want you Buck,” Steve says bracing both his hands on each side of Bucky’s face and gives him a determined look, “I want you inside of me. I want you to fuck me.”

Steve says the words with so much conviction, that even if he wanted to, he doesn’t think he could deny him. He gently spreads Steve's leg, kissing him from bent knee to where thigh meets groin. 

Steve’s hole is already wet, and as Bucky rubs a finger gently over his rim feeling the slick Steve lets out a low whine. The sound gets choked off when Bucky slides his finger in, Steve’s wet enough that before long he’s adding a second in and slowly scissoring. 

Bucky kisses Steve hard in an attempt to distract from any discomfort as he slowly adds in a third finger. Steve’s flushed pink from his hairline down, and easiestly the prettiest thing he's ever seen. He feels like a monster, with the ugly metal arm, and the scars that run from his shoulder down his back and chest. 

If Steve notices them he doesn't mention them, running thin fingers over old scar and down his side. He’s tugging at the line of Bucky's pants, making whining noises and uncoordinatedly trying to pull them down. 

“It’s okay,” Bucky says pulling away from Steve so he can get the button on his pants, “I’ve got it. Don’t worry. I got it.” 

He takes of his pants and underwear off in one final swoop, and tosses them easily over the side of the bed.

“Please, come on please,” Steve beggs as Bucky moves so he can hover over him again. 

Steves legs hook themselves over his back, and Bucky can feel the heals of Steve's feet against his lower back right over his ass. The grind against each other gently. Bucky lets himself enjoy the feeling of them pressed together. 

Bucky presses in slowly, while Steve’s practically dripping Bucky knows better than to go too fast. When he’s fully seated inside of Steve he stop because Steve's gone completely quiet. The only sound in the room is their loud breathing. 

“You okay doll?” Bucky gently cups Steve's face in his hand, who leans into his touch. Steve blinks up at him, eyelids heavy,  and a fond look on his face. 

“I’m okay,” Steve whispers curling Bucky’s hand into his, “I’m okay, keep going, I want you to keep going.” 

Bucky begins moving forward, Steve's guiding him gently with heels on his back. He kisses around where the bond mark will go, taking in Steve's scent with large gasping breaths. 

It's been a long time since he’s had sex with anyone, it was before he lost the arm, and never when he was in rut. He pulls Steve as close as possible, as he slowly begins moving within him. Steve grasps at his shoulders, his blunt nails making little crescents in his skin. 

He’s on the edge of coming embarrassingly fast, curling his hand along Steve cock they they can come together. He can already feel his knot beginning to form, making it harder to move within Steve who's almost unbearably tight. 

When Steve cums, the feeling of Steve contracting around his cock is what pushes him over the edge. His thoughts are hazy, but pure instinct makes him pull Steve close so he can bite at his scent glands. They both cry out and Bucky only hopes Steve's not crying out from pain. 

It takes Bucky a minute for his brain to turn back on. He rolls onto his back and pulls Steve onto his chest so he doesn’t crush him. He grabs the sheets from where it's been pushed to around their feet and pulls them over to keep out any cold. 

Bucky makes sure to gently wipe away the tiny trail of blood from their bond mark. Steve makes a low humming noise before nipping at Bucky’s collar bone. Omega’s can’t give bond marks, but he can’t say that he minds the idea of Steve claiming him. 

“It feels weird,” Steve murmurs pressing his face into Bucky’s chest, “the bond. Like some part of me is now made of you.” 

He had always thought people were kidding when they claimed that having a bond was an indescribable feeling. Now he completely understands. It’s like some part of Steve had filled an empty part of him that he didn’t even know existed. 

Bucky presses Steve’s hand against his heart, that he sure its still beating slightly erratically. Steve gently scratches his chest just like a cat would. He finds himself almost wanting to purr back in response. 

“I think you made me lose my ability to form coherent thoughts,” Bucky says and Steve lets out a snort of laughter. 

“I’m pretty sure I just laid there while you did all the work,” Steve replies. He’s more conscious now, heat fades slightly after being knotted. 

Bucky pulls Steve close and gives him a rough kiss, “We obviously remember things very differently.” 

It takes a half an hour for Bucky’s knot to go down, much longer than it normally does. By the end Steve’s giving him a disgruntled look as Bucky tries to slowly pull out. He rolls off from where he’s been resting on top of Bucky and onto his back. 

“I can’t feel my legs,” Steve hisses, wiggling around in the blankets. Bucky rolls over so he can face Steve, tracing the freckles along Steve's cheek bones with his finger. Steve wrinkles his nose as Bucky traces the bridge of his nose, “What are you doing?”

“I’m really lucky that I married you,” Bucky feels overwhelmed with affection. Out of all the people his father could have chosen for him to marry he got so unbelievably lucky with Steve. 

Steve rolls over and presses his face into Bucky’s arm. They lay there for a minute in silence, Bucky can still feel arousal resting just under the surface. 

“I was engaged to someone before you,” Steve says quietly, “when your army came over the border of mullingar there was fighting and he died.”

Bucky feels like all the air has been pushed out of him, “were you … were you in love with him?”

Steve sits up suddenly, “no, he was horrible. He was about ten years older then me, my father got us engaged right after my first heat when I was barely fifteen. He just wanted to control me, didn’t think of me as much more than his future silly little omega husband.”

Something in his chest is very tight and he reaches forward so he can grasp Steve’s hand tight in his, “I don’t want you to ever feel that way with me, that you're just my little omega husband.” 

“You're already so much better than he was,” Steve tells Bucky squeezing his hand tight, “he used to tell how good I smelled and how that meant I was fertile. Even when I was just fifteen years old, just a kid.”

He pulls Steve's down so the can curl up around each other, tucking Steve easily under his chin. They fit together perfectly, their hands still clutched together. Bucky feels an anger bubbling up in him that Steve ever had to deal with anyone that horrible, that he could have been stuck married to someone like that. 

They kiss without any intensity, Steve coming over to lean over him. Bucky already feels half asleep, tired from their morning activities. Steve on the other hand seems to only be gaining energy. 

He pulls back and flops onto his back, “I can’t believe you're not tired.”

“I can’t believe you are,” steve teases, “old man.”

“I’m barely five years older than you,” Bucky replies as he brushes steve's floppy bangs out of his face. His blond hairs sticking up on one side and Bucky tries unsuccessfully to flatten it down. 

Steve lays down and Bucky almost thinks he’s drifted off to sleep. He’s curled up with his knees pressed against his chest like he always does before going to bed. Bucky tries to make small movements in an attempt to not wake up Steve though they end up being in vain. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks and Bucky grumbles in reply while tucking his face into the back back of Steve’s neck, “I’m hungry, can you get me something to eat.” 

“Why can’t you get your own food?” Bucky grumbles as he buries his face into the pillow which smells fully of Steve’s scent. 

Steve flops dramatically onto his back, “I can’t move, my legs no longer work. You broke me legs.” 

Bucky makes sure to give Steve an unimpressed look before crawling out of bed and going into the sitting room where he rings for a maid. He orders them each chicken soup and a slice of apple pie, trying to bridge the gap between subsistence and deliciousness. 

Steve pulls Bucky down on top of him as he climbs back into bed who in turn happily rests his head against Steve’s thin chest and lets Steve run fingers through his hair. 

“I’m really glad to be your mate Bucky,” Steve wraps one of his legs around Bucky’s body and presses against Bucky’s own scent glands. Before he realises what he’s doing Bucky’s letting out a low growls, pressing down into Steve’s body. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” Bucky mumbles slightly embarrassed by his alpha reaction. Unlike some people Bucky’s tries not to let his alpha instincts run amuck but with Steve wrapped around him it become hard to ignore.

Steve pokes him in the cheek but doesn’t say anything about the growl. Bucky can’t remember the last time anyone ran their fingers through his hair the way Steve is and he can’t help but nuzzle into it. Bucky’s sure that his hair looks completely fluffy and he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s standing straight off his head. 

There's a light knock on the door signally their food here. Steve practically jumps up, jostling Bucky right off of him. He snatchs up the food and wonders back to bed, Steve puts the stray of the nightstand but not before grabbing the plate of apple pie. 

“Can I have a bite?” Bucky asks sitting up slightly. 

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “you have your own piece of pie sitting right over there.”

“I just want a bite though,” Bucky can’t even imagine eating a whole piece but a bite sounds perfect. 

Steve pokes his hand with the fork when he tries to reach for it, “don’t even think about it.”

Bucky’s slightly tempted to steal the bite right off his fork buts he's slightly fearful for what revenge Steve might enact. Instead he lays down, pressing his forehead against Steve's sharp hip bone and watches as he slowly devours a piece of pie.

 

***

 

 

For three days Bucky and Steve barley leave each other sides. They have sex in every room, even in the study which makes more of a mess then either of them were really prepared for. It ends with both of them slumped on the floor laughing. 

By day three Steve’s more conscious than before, and the breaks between the waves of his heat become longer. Day two had been the most intense, the lowest moment is when Steve has tried to refuse to drink the tea. Though he’d only seemed to know consciously what the tea was doing that was enough to make his heat addled mind tell him to fight against it which ended with a whole cup of it on the floor. 

By the end of the third day both of them are aware enough to know that their in need for a warm bath. They end up having sloppy sex in the bathtub, getting water all over the bathroom floor. After that they flop down in bed together, Steve half lays on top of him and refusing to move. 

When Bucky wakes up the fourth day and the scent of heat has faded almost completely he knows it's over. He stretched lazily and lets his joints crack and muscles shift. Steve wiggles from where he’s curled up against Bucky side, lazily wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s metal wrist. 

Bucky watches as Steve's large blue eyes open slowly, eyelashes looking long where they fan out against his cheeks. He presses their nose together carefully, nuzzling them together which makes Steve laugh quietly. 

“I can feel the magic in your arm,” Steve says curling his fingers fully around Bucky’s metal arm, “I couldn’t feel it before the bond, its deep old magic. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”

Bucky feels a wave of confusion. “Stevie there's no magic in this arm. Zola designed it without any. Just pure metal.” 

Steve rolls over and sits up on his elbows. “There's definitely magic in the arm. I can feel it. The magic’s reacting off of mine.” 

Alexander had designed the arm specifically for him without any magic. Had promised him repeatedly that it was no more than interact technology. The kind that could only be rivaled by a Stark. If there had been any type of magic Bucky would have never allowed the thing to be attached to his body. 

“You don’t know what your talking about,” Bucky snaps sitting up and starting to move out of the bed. “There's no magic in the arm. You're probably just feeling your own magic reflected back at yourself.” 

“I’m not just making things up,” Steve’s voice has gone cold, “I know what I’m feeling. I don’t understand what's so wrong about having magic in the arm. Magic’s a good thing Bucky.” 

Bucky doesn’t know how to explain to Steve that magic isn’t a good thing without indirectly calling Steve a bad thing, which he certainly isn’t. He’s not sure how to explain to Steve all the damage that magic has done to him. 

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Bucky throws his robe over his pajamas, “I’m going to get some breakfast, do you want anything?”

“No I don’t want any breakfast, I want to keep talking,” Steve snaps. “You can’t just ignore me because you don’t want to talk about something. I’m your husband.” 

“Your husband just wants to be left alone and have some breakfast Steve,” as soon as the words left his mouth he can already see the damage he’s done. Steve looks like he wants to rip him to shreds. 

“You promised me you wouldn’t treat me like your silly little omega husband. You promised, and now, you won’t even talk to me! You're ignoring me like what I’m saying doesn’t even matter,” Steve’s wrapped the blanket around himself like a shield. 

Bucky knows that he might just be one step away from ruining everything between them, it’s so extremely fragile and one rash step away from cracking. 

The problem is, he’s still not ready to talk about losing his arm, what it was like being captured by Hydra. The only people he's ever discussed it with is the commandos, who were there. Even his own family has no idea what happened except for on the most base level, just enough to stop his mother’s worrying. 

He knows the right thing to do is to tell Steve everything. Let the words come trickling out. Put everything out in the open. Bucky knows that Steve would be understanding. Try to do everything in his power to help Bucky. 

Even though he knows he’s making a huge mistake, Bucky can’t find it in himself to tell him. He sheds his pajamas quickly, and changes into warm clothes. Steve's still watching him from where he's sitting on the bed with a sheet around him. 

“I think I just need to get some air,” Bucky shrugs on his jacket and tries not to make eye contact with Steve.”

“I can’t believe you're doing this,” Steve hisses, “You can’t just avoid talking about magic because you don’t want to!”

Bucky lets out a long shuddering sigh, “I just need to get some air. We can talk about this later.” 

“You know I have magic Bucky. Strong magic that I won’t stop using,” Steve’s setting Bucky with a steel gaze, “Any children we have will probably have magic too. Are you going to shun me for this? Are you going to shun our children?” 

Something is Bucky snaps, “You never know when to stop pushing Steve! Sometimes you have to learn to just leave things alone! Stop trying to force me into something!” 

“I honestly can’t believe you Barnes!” Steve turns away from him. “Just leave. I can’t even bare being around you right now.”

Bucky knows the mature thing is to  _ not _ storm out of the room in anger, but he does exactly that. He thinks he hears the thud of Steve throwing something across the room. Bucky closes the door carefully behind himself. 

He leans back against the door wondering why he can't seem to stop himself from messing  _ everything up.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again sorry for the long wait between chapters, i'm super busy working on finial projects but in two weeks that'll all be done and i'll have (hopefully) more free time to work on this story and updates will be more consistent. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks to Low_key_nerdy for editing it!! thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos! 
> 
> up next: the truth comes out


	11. Chapter 11

Steves practically shaking with anger. Not since the first night they were married has Steve wanted to punch Bucky, but now,  _ in this very moment _ , he wants to strangle him. Just when he started to think everything was looking up, started having silly little fantasies about falling in love Bucky had to go and act like a complete asshole. Some sort of knot head alpha that couldn’t care less about him. 

He orders himself breakfast and eats with so much intensity that after a few bites his jaw aches. He still feels sore from the last few days, but not enough to make him want to just lay around his room. Not when there's any chance of running into Bucky. 

He heads to the training room, there's a group of young guards in training being carefully instructed by a grey haired retired guard, Steve passes right past them and goes over to were Natasha and Sam are standing. 

“Steve!” Sam says excitedly, “I see you’ve finally ventured out of your love nest.”

Steve lets out what could only be considered a growl in response. Natasha and Sam share a look, “I want to learn how to handle a sword.”

“Steve you still stink of heat, maybe we should wait a few days,” Natasha suggests, “There's no need to rush into this. If something happens you’ll still have your magic.”

“I can’t depend on that anymore.” All Steve can think about is the cold look in Bucky’s eyes when he talks about magic and the feeling of the heavy suppressor bracelets on his wrist, “I refuse to be so vulnerable again. I want to learn how to defend myself.”

Sam sets him with a worried look, “Did something bad happen between you and Bucky?”

“No, everythings fine. I just realised that it’s naive to think that nobody will ever want to hurt me,” Steve grabs one of the wooden swords from the rack. Natasha grabs one too before tossing Steve a wooden shield. 

“Defense is just as important as offense,” she tells him. “Remember that before you think of making the first hit.”

Steve makes the first hit anyways, and it takes only seconds for her to knock him down. That happens three more times until Natasha looking beyond exasperated. 

“You're not trying to use your body to your advantage,” she tells him. “You can’t just keep coming after me that way. You have to be quicker and smarter when fighting someone bigger than you.” 

Natasha not bigger then him, but she’s certainly stronger and more experienced. She knows how to find someone's weak spots and attack them. 

This time he waits patiently for Natasha to make the first move, circling each other for a long while. He works to block each of her hits with the shield, letting the sword hang loose and unused in his grip. 

It's in the middle of the fight when he realises a sword is not his kind of weapon. It's too long for him to properly control, and a true metal one would most likely to be heavy. The shield on the other hand fits perfectly in his grip, and he moves it with ease. 

It’s when he strikes Natasha in the center of her chest with the shield does he realise that it can be used as a weapon too. 

He hits her with all the force he can manage straight in the chest with the rim of the shield. She makes a tight gaspsing noise as she gets knocked down onto her back. It takes Steve a minute to realise what he just did, throwing the sword and shield down and crouching down beside her. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard,” Steve helps her sit up, “Are you alright?” 

Natasha turns and gives him a sly smile, “I think you knocked the wind out of me. Good hit though, I’m impressed.” 

Steve flushes under her compliment, feeling immensely pleased by her approval. Natasha struggles to her feet and Steve follows suit, Sam comes over to stand besides them, “I think you knocked her back two feet!” 

Steve can’t decide if he should feel proud of himself or bad that he hurt Natasha. “I realised that the sword wasn’t doing me any favors. I’m too small to be controlling something that long, I can keep the shield much closer to my body which works better.” 

He has a feeling that was the conclusion Natasha wanted him to come to all along, but she knew he was the only one that could figure it out. Her telling him wouldn’t have done any good. 

“We should practice throwing knives next,” Natasha suggests, “They’re more lightweight than a sword and as long as your aims good they're not to difficult to use.” 

“Alright,” Steve says and it's then that he realises all his anger had dissipated, “let's practice some throwing knives.”

 

***

 

 Steve’s curled up in bed, gently shading in a sketch from earlier with his color pencils when Bucky walks into the room. It’s late, and Steve already ate dinner with Natasha, Clint and Sam several hours earlier. Typically he would already been fast asleep by this time, but he felt to twitchy to sleep so picked up his sketchbook instead. 

Bucky’s holding a bundle of something in his arms that’s carefully wrapped up in a old woolen blanket. Steve gives him an inquisitive look, but doesn’t say anything, waiting for Bucky to make the first move. 

“Hi,” Bucky says awkwardly, tension filling the space, “I have something for you.” 

He expects Bucky to give him a silly gift, if he’s really out of touch with what Steve likes then some jewelry, though otherwise maybe a new set of paints or a sketchpad. Instead Bucky unfold the blanket carefully onto the bed to reveal a little grey kitten. 

The kitten meows loudly and wonders towards Steve, “You got me a cat.” 

“The book I had said that in Mullingar custom to give an omega a cat after bonding,” Bucky looks very unsure, “If you don’t like her I can get you a different one, or get rid of her completely- Sorry it was probably a stupid-” 

“No, I like her,” Steve interrupts and gently scratches at the kitten's neck, who continues to meow loudly, bright blue eyes looking up at him. It’s a Mullingar custom he’d completely forgotten about, and he never would have expected Bucky to think of it. Steve has to admit, the gestures extremely sweet, but it’s not the apology he wants. 

“I think we need to talk,” Bucky says while sitting down on the corner of the bed, “I thought it would be better if I didn’t tell you, but that's obviously not true.” 

“Tell me about what?” Steve asks. He’s expected a half hearted apology, not for Bucky to try to have a real conversation with him. 

“I don’t know if you know this, but I served in the army for a while, it’s custom in Yoshkar for alpha’s of the royal families to do so,” Bucky explains and Steve nods along already aware of Bucky’s military history, “I was there during the revolution in the north and I was captured, with the Commandos. It’s how I lost the arm.” 

Steve’s not sure what to say, he never knows what to say in these sorts of situations. If he should apologize, just do nothing at all. What he  _ really wants _ is to hurt anyone whose ever hurt Bucky. 

“The group that captured us is called Hydra, there a clan of mages who think that magic users should be in control of the country,” Bucky takes a long shuddering breath, “They tortured me once they found out who I was. They cut up my arm and did a bunch of tests on it. By the time we were found my arm was in such bad shape,and has so much dark magic in it, they had to cut it off before they could move me.” 

Steve doesn’t even think twice about pulling Bucky into a tight hug, pressing Bucky’s face into his neck. Bucky’s shaking slightly in his grip, and Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders as tight as possible. 

“Ever since that I’ve been wary of magic. Even if I know most mages would never want to hurt me. . . I can’t help it,” Bucky says quietly, “I know it’s a stupid fear, but I just can’t help it.” 

“It’s not stupid Bucky,” Steve says because it's probably the most rational fear ever, “I would never use my magic to hurt you, I’d never even use my magic on you unless I have your permission okay.” 

“I know you wouldn’t,” Bucky nuzzles his face into the side of Steve’s neck right over the bond mark, “I wish I knew how to stop being afraid but I don’t.” 

“You don’t have to suddenly stop being afraid,” Steve promises, “We can try to figure it out together.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel bad, but I don’t know how to talk about all of this. I’ve never talked about it with anyone but the Commando’s before,” Bucky tell him and something in Steve heart grows tight. 

“Thanks for telling me,” Steve says sincerely. The anger he’d been holding for Bucky throughout the entire day is gone in an instant. 

The little grey kitten comes tottering over towards them, climbing up into Bucky’s lap all the while meowing loudly. Bucky lets out a snort of laughter, and Steve watchs as he curls his fingers into the kitten soft grey fur. 

“She’s so bossy,” Bucky says as the kitten meows, “A little captain bossing everyone around.” 

Steve picks her up and she tries to bite at her finger, “What are we going to name her?” 

“You mean what are you going to name her,” Steve gives Bucky an unimpressed look, “She’s your cat after all. I got her for you.” 

“In Mullingar an apha gives their omega a cat to establish their house, and acts as a sign of them starting a family,” Steve explains feeling slightly exasperated, “So she’s our cat.” 

“Well in that case we should name her Captain Kitty.” 

Steve can’t help but let out a peal of laughter, “We can’t name her that, it’s ridiculous!” 

“It’s a good name,” Bucky says playing at being serious but he’s laughing to, “Would you like to name her?”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, “I thought you were going to name her after one of those characters from your crime novels.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Don’t be silly.” 

“I’m not the one who wants to name our cat Captain Kitty,” Steve teases. He can already tell that the name Captain Kitty is going to stick for good. The kitten meows loudly from where Steve’s still cradling her against his chest. 

“I bet Cap’s pretty hungry,” Bucky says scratching at Cap’s head lightly, “We should get her some milk, or pieces of chicken? What do cats eat?” 

Steve shrugs, “I bet the maids would know, they have cats down in the kitchens to catch all the mice.” 

Steve climbs out of bed, heading to the sitting room and ring the bell for a maid. She’s young, not their usual maid, and looks completely terrified when Steve starts talking to her. She keeps sending wide eyed looks from Steve to the open bedroom door where he’s sure she can see Bucky lounging on their bed. 

She practically scurries out of the room with the promise that she’ll bring some chopped up chicken pieces for Cap. When he walks back into their bedroom he finds Bucky lounging on their bed, kitten happily resting on his chest. 

He grins and slowly walks over and climbs on the bed besides Bucky, “You both look pretty comfy there.”

“She’s a better cuddler the you, Cap doesn’t steal all the covers,” Bucky teases. But as soon as Steve gives him a open mouthed kiss, he dislodges Cap from her resting spot so he can pull Steve closer. 

Steve likes kissing Bucky, likes doing other things too. He’d always imagined that having sex would be a chore. Something done once in awhile with the sole purpose of making a pup. With Bucky it's something he wants. Something he enjoys. 

He’s still learning what he likes, what makes him feel good. Bucky seems more then happy to explore with him. Trying new positions and going as slow or fast as Steve wants him too. Steve honestly can’t imagines a single person he’d want to try everything with more. 

There's a soft knock on the door just as Steve’s reaching his hands into Bucky’s pants. They both let out groans,  and Cap lets out a loud meow before toddling off the side of the bed. Steve rolls of of Bucky, opening the door just quick enough to grab the bowl of chicken and set off to the side for Cap. 

When he turns back to Bucky he sees that he’s already got his pants off, pushed to the end of the bed. Steve grins, letting his pants drop around his ankles before climbing back into bed. 

When Bucky takes both of their cocks in his hand, Steve can’t help but let out a startled cry. They’d tried this once, towards the end of his heat, folded together in the bathtub. As Bucky runs his thumb over his tip Steve lets a loud moan while curling his fingers into Bucky’s shoulders. 

It barely takes a minute of Bucky tugging at their cocks, Steve leaving wet uncoordinated kissed down his chest and neck, for them to come. Bucky lets out a loud groan while Steve seems to lose all control of his body, and simply tips forward into Bucky’s chest. 

Steve sighs happily as Bucky wipes away the already drying cum from their legs and bellies. He lets Bucky tuck them both carefully under the covers, not even thinking twice about curling up against Bucky’s side. He’s gotten used to being close to Bucky and not cuddling up against him in bed seems weird. 

“My mom wants to throw us a bonding celebration next week,” Bucky says while running his fingers delicately down Steve's spine which makes him shiver. 

Steve presses his face into Bucky’s chest, “I don’t want to go to a party where I don’t even know most of the people there.” 

“It won’t be so bad,” Bucky says trying to comfort Steve, “They'll be lots of food and dancing. We can dance together.” 

“I’m a horrible dancer,” Steve grumbles and Bucky lets out a rumbling laugh at Steve's grumpy tone. 

“In that case I guess we can just eat,” Bucky teases but Steve still lets out a heavy sigh, not excited about having to stand in a room full of strangers and pretend he’s enjoying himself. “It won’t be so bad. I’ll still dance with you even if you step all over my toes.”

“Maybe I’ll step on your toes on purpose,” Steve grumbles and Bucky lets out a very inelegant snort of laughter. Cap meows as she’s struggles to climb up on the bed, curling around Steve's side once she does. Steve curls his fingers into her fur and finds himself letting out a happy sigh.

 

***

 

Steve had never realised how much he craved friendship, especially with other omegas. In Mullingar, his mother had been the closest he had to an omega friend, being that he was surrounded by alpha’s and beta's his entire life. 

The friendships he’s formed with Natasha and Wanda are special, but they don’t always understand what it's like to have grown up being an  _ omega _ . Their both from the north, and from families who’d never pushed them to get married and find a mate. They’ve both been allowed more independence than Steve’s ever thought of. They’re allowed to lead their own lives of an alpha. 

Steves only had two sessions with Peter, but he can already tell that they're going to be friends. Compared to everyone  else, Steve knows he actually understands his experience as an omega from the south, especially one with magic. 

They’ve practiced together twice at the castle. They have a different set of skill, Peters much better at levitation than Steve is. Peter can even levitate himself a few feet, which is extremely difficult, and something Steve's never been able to do. Steve expects that with enough training, Peter will be able to travel around the rooftops of the city using levitation. 

Peter only lacks the proper training to become a great mage, not the natural talent, which he seems to be overflowing with. Steve’s delighted to finally be able to train alongside someone with the same amount of power as him. 

They have a book open that Steve found in the library, it's about healing, which neither him or Peter have much practice in. Their trying to use a complicated spell to give lavander the possibility to heal small cuts. It’s not going so well, being that they've made the lavender burst into flames. 

“I don’t think this is working very well,” Peter says while flipping through the book absentmindedly. Steve starting to think that the book doesn’t even contain legitimate spells. 

“No, not really,” Steve murmurs while looking over Peter's shoulder, “I think we should try something different. We can try levitating water again.” 

“Sounds good,” Peter sits down heavily in an armchair, “I know this might be a weird question, but do you know Lord Stark?” 

Steve almost can’t stop himself from making a face at Stark's name, “Yes he’s part of my household.” 

“I know that I have magic, and Stark's inventions go directly against that, but I’ve always looked up to him,” Peter blushes slightly at his admission, like it’s something to be ashamed of. 

“Your allowed to be interested in more than one thing Peter,” Steve says giving him a comforting smile, “If you’d like, I could introduce you to Stark?” 

Peters whole face seems to light up, “Really? That would be amazing!” 

“Maybe you’ll be able to understand what Stark’s always rambling on about,” Steve teases even though Steve's usually only able to grasp about half of what Tony’s talking about at any given time. 

“He’s the only omega I’ve seen that's been able to really make something of themselves,” Peter tells him. Steve hates that there's so few examples of omegas who’ve been able to blaze their own traill. Even if Steve knows that Tony’s father's pressuring him to get married so he can just hand the power over to yet another alpha. 

Steve desperately wishes people didn’t think so little of omegas. Steve’s own father would have made a stranger king of Mullingar then ever let Steve rule by himself. He had treated his own son lower than a stranger. 

“You can make something out of yourself,” Steve says earnestly because Peters smart, talented, and has all the materials for the making of someone great, “It won’t be easy, but you could do it.”

Peter gives him a wobbly smile, “My aunt wants me to get married soon. Well, she doesn’t want me to, but she thinks that it would be best if I do. It's already hard to afford food for all the kids. It's difficult for her to feed someone who's old enough to be mated.”

The plight of most omega’s is the need to get married. A majority of omega’s aren't able to survive without a mate because they can’t find a job or make any money. From there an omega’s goals become find a mate and have pups. 

“I can try to raise money for the orphanage,” Steve says earnestly, “It's not fair for you to be punished for lack of money.”

Peter gives him a half hearted shrug, “Maybe being married wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“You have someone in mind?” Steve teases and Peter blushes bright red. He never had the chance to indulge himself in silly crushes but he can’t imagine anything better for Peter then being married to someone he actually cares about. 

Peters looking down, gaze not meeting Steves, “I guess there's someone. Her names Gwen we met in school. The only problem is that she’s a beta and her father doesn’t even like when we spend time together, let alone if we got married.”

“Oh,” Steve lets out. Female beta’s and male omega’s typically don’t get married since the chance of having children is so low. The only time it happens there are special circumstances, when they’ve both been married before and have enough kids where they don’t have to have any more. 

“Being married isn’t so bad,” Steve says, and all he can think about is the warm soft feeling of being curled up in bed with Bucky, “We can find someone perfect for you.”

Though Steve would never admit it, he’s always been a true romantic at heart. Just because his own life had never held any prospect of leading to a marriage based in love it never stopped Steve from desiring it. 

“Thanks,” Peter says giving him a small smile, “Now let's try levitating water, and this time, I’ll try not to get water all over the floor.”

Steve lets out a quick laugh, “Sounds perfect.”

 

***

 

 The whole day has been consumed by a flurry of activity. During this last week of planning Winifred has taken him captive, forcing him to help her plan everything down to the last detail even though he really couldn’t care less.

Celebration in Yoshkar are more fancy than anything in Mullingar. The outfit Winifred picks out for him is fancier than what his wedding outfit would have been in Mullingar. Deep blues and purples and a kind soft of fabric that he knows doesn’t originate in Yoshkar. 

He’s half running through the hallway when he smacks directly into Peggy Carter. He’s supposed to be in his room getting ready, already running late after having a conversation with Wanda. 

“Peggy!” Steve says with a grin, “Sorry for running into you. Are you coming to the party tonight?”

He hasn’t seen her since before he bonded, even before he got sick. All his attempts to meet up with her had been met with her being too busy. Though he didn’t know for sure, it felt to Steve as though she’d been avoiding him, though Steve couldn’t think why. 

“Hello Steve,” she’s wrapped up in a large winter coat, “I’m actually leaving for Telford right now on urgent business.”

“Oh,” Steve feels heavy with disappointment, “I was hoping we would be able to share a dance.”

“I should be back before the spring festival,” Peggy tells him, “Perhaps you can save me a dance.”

“Of course,” Steve promises, “I have to go get ready now. Winifred still wants me to make sure that Bucky and I are there early so we can greet everyone.”

Peggy gives him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you soon, perhaps I could write you while I’m gone?”

“I’d love that,” Steve says pleased that their friendship’s not falling apart. Peggy already become one of his closest friends, and as far as politics goes, one of his closest allies. He couldn’t bare the idea of losing his friendship without even knowing why. 

When he gets to his room Bucky’s already waiting. He looks half ready. He has a book open in his lap,  and his shirt unbuttoned. He gives him a raised eyebrow as Steve scuttles into the room, “You're running late.”

“I know,” Steve says already rushing past Bucky and into their bedroom. His clothes have been laid by a maid. Steve changes quickly with the assistance of a maid, who helps him get the back buttons and make sure the careful beading along the leggings aren’t ripped off. 

After that one of the maids attempts to do something with his hair, but between his cowlick and it’s shortness there's not much than can be done. In Yoshkar jewelry and makeup are more common, and what he’s wearing right now, would have been considered over the top in Mullingar, and Winifred  _ still _ tried to get him to wear something even fancier. 

He doesn't mind the jewelry so much or the light dusting of makeup mostly because it feels like he’s playing dress up. Like a costume he gets to put on for one night to make the whole experience more enjoyable. 

While Steve doesn’t typically like how his body look, he’s always been two skinny with his frail bones and translucent skin, but when he’s all dressed up he feels attractive. He happily admires his reflection in the mirror as the maid once again tries half heartedly to do something with his hair.

Bucky’s ready, dressed in his military coat like the first day they met. He looks just on the edge of uncomfortable, metal hand buried deep in his pockets. The smile he gives Steve is almost too bright to look at. 

He curls his hand delicately against the side of Steve’s jaw, “Look how handsome you look. You're going to be the most beautiful person there.”

Steve knows he’s blushing, “Not at handsome as you.”

“No need for you to boost my ego,” Bucky says with a laugh, “We should get going. I’m sure my Ma’s already throwing a fit over the fact that we're running late.” 

“Don’t make fun of your Ma,” Steve scolds. Bucky rolls his eyes because they both know Bucky adores his mom, and would do anything she wants, which is why he practically drags Steve down the hallway behind him in order to not be any later than they already are.

Most of the people at the celebration Steve vaguely remembers from their wedding, on the other hand, Bucky is much more familiar with them. They give their congratulations, and Steve’s glad the bonding mark’s covered because more than one of the lord and ladies seem intent on staring at where it is. It’s invasive, and Bucky must notice because he carefully tucks Steve against his side and glares down anyone who gives Steve a strange look. Steve’s pleased with him, even though it’s completely unnecessary because he’s perfectly capable of glaring at people all on his own. 

He knows what a new bond means in others eyes. It’s a sign to the whole world that he went into heat and they had sex. A sign that an omega’s no longer a virgin and possibly pregnant. All of that makes people's eyes, especially alphas, linger on him longer than normal. 

After spending a painful amount of time greeting everyone Steve spent a good chunk of the evening on the dance floor. He knows for a fact he’s a terrible dance,r but if anyone notices it they don’t mention it instead choosing to make idle chit chat. 

He’s happy when he’s finally able to get off the dance floor and sit beside Bucky at the long table at the end of the hall. He’s tucked in between Bucky and Lord Pierce who he ignores even though he knows it’s terribly impolite. He doesn’t like Lord Pierce, and he certainly doesn’t trust him therefore he decided it's best to just ignore him. 

Bucky’s been not so slyly shoveling food from his plate onto Steve's, overflowing his plate with sweet cakes and fruits. While at first the sweet cakes were too much for him, they’ve grown on him, and his sweet tooth will take almost anything. 

“Prince Steve,” he turns to see Brock Rumlow standing before him, “I was wondering if you’d like to have a dance with me?”

He sends Bucky a panicked look, but the request is to polite for him to turn down, so Steve takes his offered hand. The second their hands meet Steve feels an unfamiliar sense of energy run through his hand. 

It's like the magic he’s used to only something slightly off. He knows for a fact that Rumlow isn't a mage, and the magic he’s feeling within him doesn’t feel as though it's Brock's own magic either. 

Steve’s familiar with the feeling of charms that vary from strength to fertility. They can easily be placed over someone who doesn’t posses magic, but what Steve's feeling isn’t like that at all. It's something deeper within him, something much darker than a silly little charm. 

“Are you enjoying your party Steve?” Brock asks giving him a smarmy smile. 

“Yes its very nice,” Steve put extra effort into keeps his voice mild, “Queen Winifred did a wonderful job planning everything.”

Brock doesn’t say anything else,  but the looks he’s giving Steve are enough. He looks at Steve like he’s a piece of meat, and he wishes he could cover up every inch of himself. Brock keeps staring at where the bondmark is, as if he could look straight through Steve's clothes. Between that and the feeling of magic he feels coming off of Brock’s he’s overjoyed when Bucky intercepts them. 

Steve watches Brock retreats as Bucky slowly starts moving around the dance floor towards Steve, “I need to tell you something but not here.”

“Alright,” Bucky says slowly, “Is something wrong?”

“No. . . maybe -- I don’t know,” Steve is still watching Brock from across the room. He’s talking to Lord Peirce in the corner, their bodies curves together as though they're protecting something very important. 

“Are you sure everythings okay?” the lines between Bucky’s eyebrows are becoming even more defined. Steve wants to reach forward and smooth out the space between them 

“Everything's fine Buck,” Steve knows better than to say anything about Brock in a room full of people, “Let’s just enjoy the party.”

Bucky grins down at him, “That shouldn’t be hard as long as you don’t step on my toes.”

Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain when at the last second Bucky dips him on the dance floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long gap between updates. finials are next week but after that i'll have lots of free time and updates will coming a lot faster. hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you to low_key_nerdy for editing it! 
> 
> up next: more about magic


	12. Chapter 12

Bucky waited until Steve finished his cup of tea to ask him about what happened the night before when he danced with Brock. He knows that before his morning cup of tea Steve’s basically reduced to a bundled up sleepy slug, that responds in grunts. 

He’s meant to ask him the night before, but that hadn’t really been on his mind when they got back to their room. Sharing only timid touches and sideways glances as if they hadn’t happened a lifetime ago instead of just several weeks. He’s gotten used to having Steve by his side-- having his mate by his side. 

He watches as Steve carefully dips his piece of toast into the yoke of his egg before taking a large bite. Bucky already ate his breakfast, wolfing food down while Steve drank his cup of tea, not even looking at his food. He’s more than happy to wait for Steve to eat his fill, enjoying the feeling of being curled up in bed together. Steve had the right idea with the whole eating breakfast in bed thing. 

“So,” Bucky starts just as Steve finishes his breakfast, “are you going to tell me what got you so freaked out while you were dancing with Brock?” 

Steve doesn’t meet his eyes and instead pretends to suddenly become absorbed in picking at a loose threat in the quilt. “I guess I should. I’m just not sure if what I think is going on  _ is actually going on _ .” 

Bucky frowns at how cryptic Steve’s being, “How about you tell me. Then we can go from there.” 

Steve grows silent for a long moment as though he’s considering all his possibilities, “Last night when Rumlow and I were dancing I felt that he had magic on him. Like a charm but  _ different _ . I’m not sure, but I think it was dark magic.” 

Bucky feels his whole body tense up at the mention of dark magic. It’s  _ not _ something he takes lightly. Dark magic has been illegal for years, longer than he’s been alive. He knows that doesn't mean that people don’t use it, he has first hand experience, but he wouldn’t expect it from someone like Brock who interacts with so many people he could easily get caught. 

“Stevie you know that dark magics illeg-” 

“I know,” Steve says cutting him off, “I’m not positive but if something's there we’ve got to tell someone. Dark magic is dangerous, especially for someone who's not even a mage, to be messing around with.” 

“Is there any way you can confirm that he’s been using dark magic?” Bucky asks. He may not like Brock, but he doesn’t want to start accusing him of something he may not be connected to, especially an accusation as major as using dark magic. 

“Not without touching him.” Steve sounds completely repulsed by the very notion, and Bucky can’t say he likes the idea of Steve and Brock touching, “Even if I did do that, there's no guarantee that I would be able to tell anymore than I can now.” 

Bucky’s not sure he’s equipped to deal with all of this,and for a fleeting moment, he considers that the best option would be to tell his father. If it was anyone else,he would, but Brock is Alexander’s nephew, and his father's fearsly convinced of Alexander's loyalty. He can only imagine the situation ending with his father throwing Steve’s accusations right back at him. Considering he was the one who chose to lock him up in suppressor bracelets to begin with. 

“We should tell S.H.E.I.L.D.,” Steve says giving Bucky a serious look, “They're the ones that enforce rules surrounding magic use anyway. If someone's using dark magic they’d want to know.”

Bucky thinks Steve's view on S.H.I.E.L.D. might be a little too optimistic considering most of the information he has about them is from Peggy, who's part of the group. Still out of all the possibilities S.H.I.E.L.D. probably the ones that are going to be the most interested, the most motivated. 

“Nicholas Fury is the head of S.H.I.E.L.D., I can try to see if I can set up some sort of meeting with him,” Bucky suggests. 

 Steves gives him a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing out of bed. It’s mid morning and Bucky is  _ dreading _ the council meeting he knows he has to go to. It’s wouldn’t be so bad if his father actually let him do things, give his own input and have it be taken seriously, but instead, he’s forced into lurking in the corner and just listening. 

“Me and Peter have a mid morning training session planned,” Steve tells him as he slides behind the dressing screen. He can hear Steve humming quietly to himself, throwing his pajamas over the top of the screen. 

When he emerges from behind the screen Steve's fully dressed with his hair in complete disarray, but other than that, looking ready to face the day. Bucky watches as Steve tries to smooth his hair out, cowlick making it stick up in the back, and all Bucky wanted to do is run his fingers through it. 

He does just that when Steve leans over the bed and gives him a kiss. He gets a slightly annoyed look in return as Steve tries to flatten his hair back out again. He finds himself laughing and ruffling it again just so Steve can squawk at him. 

“You're a real piece of work Barnes,” Steve grumbles. Bucky would think he was mad if it wasn’t for the little smile Steve gives him. He never expected to find Steves surliness so enjoyable. 

“You like it,” Bucky mumbles in between kissing a path down Steve's neck who huffs goodnaturedly, “I have to be in council meetings all day, but Dugan wants to meet us for dinner tonight.”

Bucky lets himself enjoy the feeling of Steve running his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp gently, “Try to enjoy yourself at the meeting okay?”

“I would be able to enjoy myself, if my father actually let me have an opinion,” Bucky huffs and Steve rolls his eyes. He knows he’s probably complaining over nothing. Steve's father didn’t even let him  _ come _ to council meetings after his first heat. Bucky just hates how easy it is for his father to make him feel inadequate. 

Steve pulls away from him and the only thing Bucky wants to do is reel him back in. He doesn’t know how he became so dizzy with affection for Steve. Bucky not sure how they went from barely being able to stand each other to Bucky just wanting to spend all day with him. 

Maybe it's love. Bucky wants to believe that's what it is. He is feeling unbelievably pleased with just the idea of it. Being with Steve feels like love, and if its not then Bucky doesn't have a single clue to what love is. 

He gets dressed quickly, knowing his father will already scold him for being late. They’re meeting with representatives from the Vale, and even though Steve is the delegate from Mullingar, he wasn’t invited. Bucky’s not sure if he should say something because he knows his father’s lack of invitation was purposeful. 

Bucky’s sure they’ll be discussing crop negotiations. It's deep enough into winter that food supplies is running low, and there can’t be a repeat of last year. Food running out,people being forced to scrape by on whatever they had, and if this year follows the trend, then this winter will go on longer than normal. 

The Vale countries aren't necessarily their allies. Mostly they try their best to work out deals that are mutually beneficial, and when deals aren’t being made, they ignore each other. The attack on Mullingar is sure to have ruptured their relationship, and the deals won't be as good as the once were. 

His father's not sitting in the usual council chambers, but a smaller room instead, with a large circular oak table in the center. Around the table are representatives from the Vale nations. There's an obvious discomfort in the room. It appears to be the vacant seat, and the looks the delegates are sharing makes it clear, that without the presence of Peggy Carter, the delegate of Telford and Mullingar are not quite sure how to proceed. 

His father gives him a look out of the corner of his eye as Bucky takes a seat, looking unimpressed over his lateness, “Now that everyone has arrived, there's a bill I was hoping to discuss with you all today.”

“You said there would be a representative from Mullingar here. And yet, I don’t see one. It's bad enough you're trying to discuss this without lady Carter here, but I refuse to make negotiations without a diplomat from Mullingar present,” the woman who speaks is Lady Maria Hill, a young alpha from the Vale country of Lanark. Their neighbors to Mullingar and closely allied, and she’s also a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.. 

“My son will be speaking on behalf of Mullingar,” King George says motioning over to Bucky, who tries to hide his surprise, because it's the first he’s hearing of this, “his husband and mate is the Prince of Mullingar, and therefore, James will be standing in as their representative.”

Lady Jones scoffs from her place as the other side of the table, “Don’t be ridiculous, Prince James hasn’t even been to Mullingar since he was a boy. You can’t possibly think he can stand in as representative. I’m standing in with Lanark, no discussions until a true representative is present.”

He can tell anger is appearing under his father's cool exterior. Lady Jones has always been an ally, even if she was always a little unpredictable, turning her back on them is certainly not a good sign. 

His father turns to Lord Xavier, who’s  the representative from Antegrade, arguably their closest ally within the Vale. His grandmother was from Antegrade, and ever since that, they’ve been the closest ally they’ve had within the Vale. 

“I’m sorry,” Lord Xavier says slowly, giving King George a sympathetic look, “I’m going to have to agree with Lady Hill and Lady Jones. Either bring Prince Steven in as a representative, or someone equally qualified, before you suggesting any deals.”

The diplomats file out, but Bucky stays with his father, who's gripping at the sides of the tables like he could rip it apart, “I suspected something like this would happen. They’ve all been unreasonable since the attack on Mullingar,  and with Lady Carter gone, Lady Hill and Lady Jones hold all the power.”

“Maybe we should invite Steve. Help calm the delegates down some,” Bucky suggest tentatively. 

“If he turns down my proposition, he’ll give the delegates another reason to turn against us. No absolutely not,” his father says shutting down Bucky’s idea before he spent any time considering it. 

“If the deals good he won’t.” Bucky knows Steve isn't one for revenge if it means hurting people who are blameless, “Please, just consider it.” 

His father sets him with a sharp look, “I know you’ve been blinded by your affection for him, but it's important that you understand: Steve holds no loyalties to Yoshkar. He doesn’t hold her best interest like you and I. Do you really think he wouldn’t side with those from the Vale? Look at how close he’s already gotten with Carter?” 

“You don’t know him like I do,” Bucky growls out. His angers half due his father's lack of faith in Steve, and another part due to the mentioning of Peggy Carter. He knows he has no true reason to be jealous, he doesn’t doubt Steve at all, but he can’t help but feel the jealousy bubble up at the mention of how easily Steve and her get along. 

“He’s got you wrapped around his little finger,” his father says with a tired laugh. “It hardly matters. It’s time we take this out of the delegates hands. In three days we’ll head to Antegrade, my cousin will be more perceptive to our suggestion, after that. . . everyone will fall in line.” 

“You want me to come to Antegrad with you? With Steve, right?” a heaviness is already starting to form in his chest. 

His father gives him a long held in sigh, “Steve has to stay here. His place is here in the palace.” 

“Were barely bonded! You can’t split us up!” Bucky argues as his throat becomes tight with panic, “He could help us secure trust again in the Vale. He can be more useful by our side than staying at the palace.” 

“I may have brought Steve here to be your husband, and to bring magic back into the family, but he was also brought here to act as insurance. I can’t risk bringing him into a Vale country. There are people there that believe Steve should be freed and given back to Mullingar.” 

“Let me stay here with Steve. I can practice ruling while your gone - a dry run,” Bucky finds himself begging. Tearing an omega and alpha pair apart, so close after bonding, causes separation anxiety and depression. His father doesn't seem particularly concerned with that though. 

King George already halfway out of the doorway, and Bucky tries his best to follow quickly on his heels, “I need you to come with me James. My cousin doesn’t have any alpha children to take the throne after him. It’s important that we show our power.” 

Bucky can already tell he's lost the argument. His father already seems completely uninterested. He wants to put up a fight, but he doesn’t know how to stand up to him, make him listen to what he has to say. Bucky’s  _ tired _ of never being taken seriously by his father. 

“Since the council meetings isn’t happening, were done for the day,” his father says, basically waving him off, “Remember to begin packing for the trip to Antegrade. We’ll be gone for a few weeks.” 

He watches his father walk away, knowing that he’ll have to tell Steve that he’s leaving. He walks slowly to the royal library, where he knows Steve’s practicing magic with Peter. He’s dreading the idea of telling Steve, just as much as he’s dreading the idea of going. 

Their sitting at the little round table, wide books open all around them. He’s never met Peter before, and he gives Bucky a wide eyed look as soon as he spots him. 

Steve gives him a wide grin, “Bucky, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be at a council meeting for the rest of the day.” 

“It ended faster than expected,” Bucky says quickly, “I was hoping we could talk, preferably in private.” 

“Of course,” Steve says giving Peter a look, “let's just step out into the hall.” 

They go past the hall and all the way into their private chambers down the hallway. Steve trails after him silently, giving him an expectant look once they're finally in the privacy of their own room. 

“What’s going on Buck? Your scents all weird, and the bonds making me feel all twitchy,” Steve explains, swaying back and forth on his feet. Bucky wants to curl around him and take all his anxiety away. 

“My father's wants me to come to Antlegard with him in three days. We’ll be gone for a couple of weeks,” Bucky tells him. 

Steve makes a noise like a wounded animal, “He can’t do that! We’ve only been bonded for a few weeks. He can’t just split us up now!” 

Bucky’s not sure what else to do so he cups Steve’s face in his hands. He feels Steve lean forward until his head is pressed against Bucky’s chest, wrapping them together in a tight hug. He can feel Steve’s nimble fingers clutching at the back of his jacket, fisting large amounts of it into his hands. 

“This isn’t fair,” Steve murmurs quietly into Bucky’s shirt and the words get muffled by the fabric, “I just got you and now he’s going to take you away from me.” 

Bucky understands the sentiment. It feels like he and Steve are finally beginning to figure out how to be married, how to be mates, and now his father's going to come and tear all of that apart. 

“I wish you could come with me,” Bucky curls his fingers through Steve's soft hair the way he knows Steve likes, “I hate leaving you here. I hate that my father's doing this to us.” 

Steve sighs, “I don’t understand why I can’t come with you.” 

“My father thinks that taking you anywhere in the Vale could be dangerous,” Bucky explains, “People there aren't happy that my father brought you here. They think you’re no more than a prisoner. He’s worried if we bring you to a Vale country people might try to rise up, and return you to Mullingar.” 

Steve folds his arms over his chest like a peeved child, “If I truly didn’t want to be here, I would have figured out a way to leave by now.” 

Bucky can’t help but smile at Steve’s unrelenting stubbornness. Sometimes he can’t believe that he hated the idea of being married to Steve. Avoided him, so not to have to consider what it would like to be married. Now he hated the idea of being apart. 

“I have to go back to Peter,” Steve says with a long suffering sigh, “I hate all of this. I wish I could just make everything go away.” 

“Me too,” Bucky presses his forehead against Steve's, enjoying the waves of calm that come rolling through the bond. Most of the time he’s not able to get any emotional feedback from Steve, but in that quiet moment, he’s able to feel the full scope of emotion. 

Steve pulls his head away after a lone minute, “Are you still planning on talking with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

Bucky had totally forgot about it until Steve reminded him, but he pretends like he didn’t, “I was planning on doing that later today, but since the council meeting ended so early, I’ll head over now.” 

“Why did the council meeting end so early, you made it sound like it was going to last all day?” Steve’s brow is furrowed and he sets Bucky with a suspicious look. 

“The Vale delegates refused to have an discussions until my father supplied a delegate from Mullingar, and my father refused.” Bucky knows that the look of disappoint that comes over Steve's face is,because he knows as well as Bucky, that he’s meant to be the delegate from Mullingar. 

Steve gives him a bitter laugh, “I guess we can all tell now how much that title really means. Maybe I’m not much more than a prisoner after all.” 

“Don’t say that,” Bucky begs. “You're not just a prisoner here.” 

“I know that. I’m just angry right now,” Steve lets out a sigh and Bucky can’t blame Steve for being mad. Bucky’s pretty furious at his father right now too, “I think I’m just going to go practice with Peter some more. I need to cool off alright.”

“Alright,” Bucky concedes, but he doesn't want to let him go. Bucky can’t even begin to imagine what it’s going to be like to leave him behind. 

 

It takes him awhile to track Fury down. In the end it's Lord Coulson who tells him where to find Fury. Bucky traveled deep into the city to the building owned by S.H.I.E.L.D.. It’s lovely, but not very distinct in a middle class part of town, wedged right between a bakery and a jewelry shop. If Bucky didn’t know better, he would have assumed it was just a regular old house. 

“I would have thought your headquarters would be more obvious,” Bucky jokes to Lord Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. was a large group, he expected something grandiose.

“We have bases all over Yoshkar and other countries,” Lord Coulson says giving him a sidelong look, “Not everyone's a friend of magic Prince James. Sometimes it's better to hide in plain sight, rather than make a statement.” 

He’s unsure if Coulson's words are meant to be a message to his own distrust of magic, Lord Coulson's even tone never wavers. Bucky nods his head, unsure of how he should respond. It's not like he’s ever endorsed S.H.I.E.L.D. in the past. 

Lord Nicholas Fury is an intimidating man with his long dark jacket and harsh stare. If he’s surprised to see Bucky he doesn’t look it, simply holds out a glove covered hand for Bucky to shake, which he accepts. 

“You're not actually the prince I was expecting to see,” Lord Fury says motioning for Bucky to sit down, “We’ve invited your husband to come multiple times, but he declines every time. Even sent Coulson over there to give him a personal invitation.” 

Bucky gives a shrug, “If Steve wants to come, he’ll come. I certainly don’t have any control over him.” 

Fury lets out a low chuckle, “That's probably for the best.” 

Bucky’s pretty sure Fury means it as an insult, but he keeps his emotions carefully closed off. He feels awkward in the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, he can feel the magic radiating through the entire place. He desperately wishes they could have just met at the castle. 

“I assume you're not just here for a social call,” Fury says setting him with an look that couldn’t be translated as anything other than disinterest. In some ways, he reminds Bucky’s of Natasha.

“No actually what I have to say is about my husband and Brock Rumlow,” Fury raised a eyebrow at him, “Steve thinks that Brock's using dark magic. He claimed that he could sense it in his hand, could feel the magic.”

“It’s not unusual for powerful mages to be able to sense magic in others, and your husband certainly is a powerful mage,” Fury says calmly, “accusing someone of using dark magic is a serious allegation.”

“I’m not saying if it’s true or not,” Bucky argues because he trusts Steve, but that doesn’t mean he trusts his magic, “Just thought this information would be helpful. What you choose to do with it. . . is really not up to me.”

“Rumlow’s the nephew of your father's head advisor. Are you sure that you want to accuse him of something like this?” Fury asks. “If we find out he’s been using dark magic, there's no going back.” 

“I’d prefer that if nobody heard about it, unless something's really there,” Bucky says because going against Alexander is dangerous, and Bucky’s also still in debt because of his arm. Putting his nephew in jail for the rest of his life certainly isn't good payment, and he’d prefer to not have rumours spreading around. 

“Understandable,” Fury says before standing up, “I imagine you have others things to do Prince James.” 

Bucky’s glad for the opening to get out of S.H.I.E.L.D. Being surrounded by magic is making him feel increasingly anxious, and he’s more than happy to leave. If it’s was up to him, Bucky will never be visiting the S.H.I.E.L.D. building again. 

Coulson escorts him out, even though it’s pretty unnecessary, considering that the building isn’t all the big. Bucky’s starting to suspect that they just don’t want him to sneak around, see something that he’s not supposed to. While S.H.I.E.L.D. may be an overall well respected organization, that doesn’t mean that Bucky thinks they're completely clean. 

He climbs back into his carriage feeling the tension slowly leave his body. He can already tell that he’s going to have nightmares tonight. Intellectually, knows that S.H.I.E.L.D.’s better than hydra, that there's no reason for him to believe that they would want to hurt him, but the only feeling he’s left with is of heavy magic and fear. 

His arm aches painfully, his metal shoulder overly sensitive and the metal in his hand cramping. He fishes a pill out of his pocket, the ones prescribed by Zola, and quickly pops it into his mouth. 

 

The next two days go by painfully fast, and before he knows it, his trunks are packed and he’s crawling into bed with Steve the night before the trip. Steve keeps sending him these sad looks, like a puppy that’s been kicked, and they’re almost too much for Bucky to bare. 

Steve’s curled up in bed with the covers and quilt up around his shoulders. Cap’s curled up against his side, her big blue eyes watching Bucky with a disinterred expression. She meows loudly when he moves her from her place next to Steve. 

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulders until he can’t help but fall down, mostly on top of Steve, their foreheads knocking together awkwardly. Bucky lets out a huff of laughter, which quickly dissolves into something much closer to a moan, as Steve scratches his nails up Bucky’s back. 

“I’m going to miss you so much doll,” Bucky mumbles as he brushes the tips of their nose together. Steve lets out a sigh and he feels Bucky’s hot breath on the side of his face, right up against his jaw. 

“I have something for you,” Steve twists out of Bucky’s grip, digging around in the drawer of the side table, eventually pulling out what looks to be a pendent. He carefully holds it out to Bucky, who watches the green and grey stone shine oddly. 

“What is it?” it doesn’t look like any sort of rock he’s seen before. 

Steve bites his lip nervously, “It’s magic, Peter and I just figured out how to cast the connection spell. I have one of my own, and anytime one person holds it, the other person will feel warmth coming through the pendent.”

Its an unexpected gift to say the least, and Bucky’s not entirely sure what to do with it. He likes the idea of the pendent, likes having a little piece of Steve with him whenever he wants  but it's still magic. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Steve but, it's that he doesn't trust magic in general, no matter who was the one to cast it. 

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” Steve says quickly words seeming to almost spill out of his mouth, “I would completely understand if you didn’t want it.” 

It’s the hopeful look in Steve’s eyes that makes him change his mind, slowly reaching forward and taking the pendent in his hand. Steve’s watching him like one watches a spooked animal as Bucky carefully drapes the necklace around his neck. It weighs nothing, and it would be easy enough to forget it’s there. 

“Thank you,” Bucky says letting all the sincerity he feels bleed into his voice. “This is amazing Steve.” 

Steve take his own necklaces, identical to Bucky’s in all ways, and puts it around his own neck. As Bucky leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to Steve lips their pendants bump together, making a soft clicking noise as they do. 

Steve wraps his fingers around the pendant, and the feeling that comes over Bucky is much different than what he expected. Instead of an electric shock of heat, it feels like he’s slowly slipping into a warm bathtub. For a second it feels as though their bonding all over again. 

“Oh Stevie,” Bucky gasps out not even realising he’s talking until he is, “it feels. . . it feels like. . .” 

He can't think of any words to properly describe how it feels, so he doesn't. Instead, he wraps his own hand around his pendant, and watches as Steve shudders under the feeling. He finds himself unable to let go of the pendant, holding it tightly until his hand grows cramped and sweaty. 

“Oh wow,” Steve mumbles and pressed his forehead against Bucky’s collar bone, “This is stronger than I ever thought it could be. It’s like we're bonding all over again.” 

“It feels amazing,” Bucky gushes and gives Steve a firmer kiss. He keeps one hand carefully gripping the pendant, drags Steve into his lap with the other. Though he’s not sure how much Steve would appreciate it,  Bucky loves that Steve’s smaller than him. Loves how easy it is to wrap himself around Steve completely. 

Steve tugs on his hair playfully, but lets out a hushed moan when Bucky nibbles down the side of his neck, “It only works with the person you're bonded to. Only we can create that feeling. It’s just ours.” 

Bucky curls his hands around Steve’s thighs as he pulls him closer, letting Steve rest comfortably in his lap. He carefully starts rolling down Steve’s sleep shorts, giving himself access to what seems like miles of soft skin. Steve leans down to kiss Bucky and neither of them mind one bit when their foreheads bump together awkwardly. 

Steve’s helps to strip Bucky of his shirt and pants, seemingly happy to run his fingers carefully down Bucky’s side. It’s the sudden sense of urgency that overtakes Bucky, feeling as though they can’t possibly have enough time. He whips Steve’s shirt off so fast he almost gives them both whiplash. 

Their kisses become quick and heated, more uncoordinated than anything else. Steve’s seems delighted to be on top, setting the pase and holding Bucky down. They grope at each other, and Bucky runs a careful hand down Steve’s back and ass until he finds his already wet hole. It’s easy enough for him to stick a finger in gently and then two within Steve with a practiced ease. 

He’s enjoying Steve’s breathy moans, loving the way steve’s nails runs down his chest. Bucky knows they're probably going to fast, but all he feels is the desperate need to be inside of Steve. He hopes he doesn’t hurt him, knowing Steve would stop him if he did. 

Steve cries out loudly and Bucky holds him still by his bony hips, “You feel okay doll? Anything hurt?” 

“Feels good Buck,” Steve mumbles slowly letting out a long held in breath, “I wanna be able to feel it in the morning.” 

Bucky moans partially at Steve’s words and partially due to the way Steve starts slowly rolling his hips. It’s harder and faster than what they did during Steve's heat, letting Steve take the reigns and control the movement. He seems desperate, and Bucky shares the same sentiment, wanting to get his hands on as much as Steve as he can. 

It doesn’t take long for Steve to cum, especially not after Bucky gets his hand on his cock. Steve lets out a small bitten of moan that means he’s about to let go. Silently, and with his his head thrown back, Steve cums in between the to. Bucky gets the most gorgeous view of him, and watching Steve cum is what sets him right over the edge. 

Bucky thinks he might have blacked out because when he comes to, Steve’s curled up against his chest, loose and semi lucid on top of him. He shifts as much as he can with his knot still buried in Steve, wrapping a protective arm around him. 

“Are you sure you have to leave?” Steve quietly whines, rubbing his cheek against Bucky’s chest. He seems half asleep, resting somewhere between awareness and dreamland. 

“I wish I could Stevie,” Bucky runs his fingers through his hair so that it sticks up adorably all around his head. “It won’t be too long. I’ll be back before you know it. You probably won’t even have enough time to miss me.” 

Steve doesn’t dignify his comment with a response, instead trying his best to cuddle even closer. They only break apart so Steve can drink his tea, taking it in one large gulp so they can curl back around each other again. 

In the morning he wakes up with the sun. Steve moans and groans, throwing a large coat of Bucky’s over his pajamas so he can walk him out. At the last second Bucky wraps a scarf around his neck and slips a hat onto his head, afraid of Steve freezing while they say their goodbyes. 

Bucky’s only ever seen Steve cry once, when he had the fever and all he wanted was to go home and see his mom. Steve’s looks pretty misty eyed now though, wrapped up tight in one of Bucky’s thick winter coats. He carefully presses close to Bucky, tucking his freezing cold nose right up against the side of his throat. 

“Don’t cry doll,” Bucky pulls Steve into a tight hug, nearly lifting him off his feet. Steve hangs like dead weight, only wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders in a feeble gesture. 

“I don’t know what your talking about,” Steve says as he stifle a not so discreet sniffle, “I’m just tired. I’m not crying. My eyes are just watering because I’m tired.”

Bucky gives a quiet laugh and rubs his face into Steve's sweet smelling hair, “I’m going to miss you too.”

He’s still hugging Steve tight to his chest when his father comes over. Bucky sees Steve set him with a truly terrifying glare, and it takes all of Bucky’s self control not to laugh. If his father notices Steve’s glare he completely ignores it. 

“It’s time to go. We don’t want to get a late start,” his father tells him. The suns only   half risen as it is, Bucky’s seriously doubts they could get a late start. Bucky nods anyway, and Steve grips onto his coat with more ferocity. 

He kisses Steve, trying to push everything he feels into the kiss. He knows their edging into indecent, getting long stares from people walking past them. He onlys breaks apart when he spots his mother, out of the corner of his eye looking, completely scandalised. Bucky pulls away slowly, not wanting to take a single step away from his omega. 

He gives both his mother and sister tight hugs before getting on his horse. Bucky’s happy to see his mother wrapping Steve up in a tight hug, quietly telling him something that makes him slowly smile. 

The moment Steve's out of his site he reaches for the pendent. It only takes a moment for the warm heat to encase him. Bucky doesn’t feel so lonely knowing that Steve's gripping his own pendant right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long gap between updates, next one should be posted sooner. hope you enjoyed all the fluff (drama coming up soon) 
> 
> up next: thor enters the picture


	13. Chapter 13

It only takes two days for Bucky's absence to begin to feel like a hole in his chest. Steve had thought time would make it beter,  _ time was supposed to make it better _ , but instead the feelings only makes him irritable. He feels on edge more and more as the days go on, anxiety making him feel angry and twitchy. 

Steve finds himself sleeping in later than usual because he can’t fall asleep at night. Even with the feeling of Bucky gripping the pendant, and the warm rolls of energy that come through, Steve can’t stop feeling as though a part of him is missing. It feels as if his body had been torn in half. 

Not long ago, Steve couldn’t imagine himself mated and married to Bucky. Now he spends his days moping around the castle pathetically making his need for Bucky clear to anyone who passes him by. 

He knows he’s being pathetic, but finds he can’t stop it. Natasha rolls her eyes at him when she finds him sulking around the training room, practicing his throwing knifes. 

“It’s not like he’s dead,” Natasha points out, after ruthlessly going after his technique, “You'll see him again very soon, it's nothing to cry over.” 

“I’m not crying,”Steve mumbled,  sounding very much like a petulant four year old. He hasn’t cried, at least not since the first day, and even then his tears were mostly held in. 

They both watched Clint shoot an arrow hitting the bullseye without even looking

. He gives them a wide smirk, “Don’t they always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder?” 

“I don’t think that works when your heart's already fond,” Steve points out, nearly missing the target completely with the throwing knife. 

“Weren’t you both about to rip each others throats out only a week ago?” Clint asks rhetorically. Steve’s pretty sure he hears Natasha give a not so discreet snort of laughter. 

Steve shrugs. The statements completely true,  but that doesn’t mean what he feels toward Bucky is any less intense. Just because they occasionally argue doesn’t mean that Steve doesn’t care about Bucky. 

He feels a little better after training with Clint and Natasha, however it ends rather quickly. He is nowhere near as in shape as them, and gets tired after a short period of time. His body’s never been particularly strong, even with his magic to help him. Exercise quickly tires him out, and he finds himself laying down for a nap. 

When Steve wake up it's completely dark outside. The curtains which had at first been letting a dim glow into the room, now only cast a long shadow across the bedroom. Steve sits up quickly, blankets pooling around his waist, feeling slightly light headed. 

He checks the small clock sitting on Bucky’s nightstand, and sees that it's after the time he had promised to be at dinner. He practically leaps out of bed, ripping off Bucky’s shirt he’d been wearing to sleep, and quickly climbing into his own clothes. Steve’s sure the buttons to his coat aren’t right, but he’s in enough of a rush that he doesn't bother to check. 

Of course, by the time he arrives at the royal family’s private dinning hall, everyone's already arrived. He’d expected to see Winifred, Becca, and Michael, but he also finds lord Pierce and Brock sitting at the table, as though it's perfectly natural. Taking the seats that are typically Bucky’s and King George’s. 

He slides into his own chair besides Winifred, feeling uncomfortable because Brock is in the spot next to him.  _ Bucky’s spot _ . 

“I thought maybe you weren’t able to make it for dinner tonight?” Winifred’s already making sure to pile food onto his plate, always concerned that he isn't eating enough. 

“Sorry I’m late. I took a nap this afternoon and overslept,” Steve explains, “I haven’t been sleeping as well with Bucky gone.” 

Winifred practically coos at him then, “You poor thing. I remember how hard it was the first time George went away for a long trip. It’ll get better as time goes on and Yoshkar stops feeling like such a foreign place to you.” 

Steve’s not entirely sure he wants this feeling to become normal. He likes the idea of being by Bucky’s side, whether in Yoshkar or some other far off place. Steve knows he could never be happy  _ always _ waiting at the castle for Bucky to return. 

“I’m sure it’ll get better soon,” Steve lies. Winifred seems happy enough with his answer. He doesn’t even realise he has his hand wrapped tightly around his pendant until he sees Lord Pierce  giving him a withering glare. 

“What is that pendant around your neck?” The words are sharp, but just inquisitive enough to be perceived as curious.

“It connects Bucky and I. He can feel it when I touch it, and I can feel when he does,” Steve explains, never letting his hand drift from the pendant. Steve can tell Bucky’s gripping his too. Steve feels relief just knowing Bucky’s out there. He feels himself calm slightly.

“How incredible!” Becca says trying to get a closer look at the pendant, “Is it possible for you to make one for me and Michael?”

“I think so. The spell becomes more complicated when the mage isn’t one of the pendant holders.” He’s never tried the spell before he made his own pendant, but with Peter's help, he imagines they could figure it out. 

Both him and Becca are surprised when Lord Pierce  breaks into their conversation, “Queen Winifred you can't possible be okay with this. Prince Steve's placed a spell over your son and is about to do it to your daughter. King George had him wear the suppressor bracelets for a reason.” 

Steve sets him with the sharpest glare he can manage, “I didn’t cast a spell over him. Bucky can take the pendant off anytime he pleases.” 

“As for the suppressor bracelets,” Winifred cuts in before Lord Pierce  can reply, “they’re an old and outdated weapon. They have no place in Yoshkar,  _ let alone _ in the royal family. I won’t have you speaking otherwise.” 

If Lord Pierce feels cheated by her comment he doesn’t show it, “I’m just trying to express King George's own wishes, nothing more.”

Steve wants to scoff because it seems obvious to him that Lord Pierce has his own agenda, completely separate from what King George wants. Even though Steve's not entirely sure how suppressing his magic can help Lord Pierce, Steve doesn’t doubt there's a reason for it. 

“There'll be no more talk of this,” Winifred snaps and he’s never heard her voice sound so sharp, “I invited you to have dinner with my family, so I expect you not to spend the entire meal harassing them.”

Those words finally make Lord Pierce grow silent allow Becca and Steve to return to their previous conversation. Alexander remained quiet the rest of the meal, but he did not hide his anger at all. Winifred, whose much more practiced at hiding her emotions, wore a face so neutral, Steve was not entirely sure how upset she truly was. 

Dinner ends quickly, no one wanting to spend any more time around the table. It’s Brock, who had been surprisingly silent through dinner, that grabs his arm right before he’s about to stand up. He turns to look at him in surprise, resisting the feeling of wanting to snatch his arm away. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to come have a drink with me and Rollins,” Brock says in a low voice guaranteeing no one else heard, “I’m sure you’ve been awfully lonely with Prince James gone.”

The way he talks implies that he wants to do much more then just have a drink. Brock’s probably hoping to get Steve drunk so that he’ll be able to do whatever he, and Rollins, want to do to Steve.

Steve yanks his arm out of Bock's grip, “I’m perfectly fine, and I certainly don’t want to get a drink with you.”

“Come on it’ll be fun,” Brock urges with a smirk Steve wants to slap off of his face, “Your keepers not here. Maybe I could show you around. Give you a tour of the city.” 

Steve’s not sure how he can possibly make his disinterests any more obvious. He’s always known alphas like Brock, who never know how to take no for an answer. They push and push until you finally give in, and they get exactly what the want. Steves tired of being pushed around. 

“Bucky’s not my keeper,” Steve snarls back. “And even if he was, you're certainly not the person that I’d chose to spend my free time with.”

He’s not the least bt surprised when Brock leans into his face, “You think just because you’re a Prince you can talk back to an alpha? You're still an omega. It's time that you learn when an alpha tells you to do something,  you do it.”

With those words, Steve decides he had no choice but to hit Brock. He’s glad he’s been practicing with Natasha because he really wants the punch to hurt. He can’t imagine anything more satisfying than breaking Brock's nose. 

A heavy hand finds it's way onto his shoulder, effectively stopping him from throwing a punch, “I’m  afraid Steve and I already have plans tonight Lord Rumlow, and they  _ do not _ include you.”

Steve turns to look over his shoulder and sees Becca, who has an impressively cold look on her face. Brock seems to recognize the clear alliance between Steve and Becca, even if he isn’t pleased about it. Brock practically growls as them before leaving, a blatant sign of disrespect. 

“He wants to get you all riled up,” Becca says as soon as Brock's out of earshot. “And I  _ know, _ you definitely don’t want to give him what he wants.” 

“I don’t know what he wants from me. I thought he just wanted to get me riled up, but I think there's something more to it. He wants to use me to hurt Bucky I think, with some sort of crazy revenge plan,” Steve says. At first Steve had assumed that Brock just wanted to harass him, normal alpha behavior from what Steve’s seen, but now, with the possibility of dark magic, he’s beginning to think it might be more than that. 

“I’m not entirely sure what he wants,” Becca says slowly, considering everything very carefully, “I know I don’t trust him. Certainly not like my father seems to trust Lord Pierce. Brocks been trying to weasel his way into a position of power as long as he’s been here, and he’s certainly not above blackmailing.” 

Steve nods, “Thanks for stopping me. I still want to hit him, but I can’t see that ending very well for me.” 

“Lord Pierce  does seem to have a vendetta against you,” Becca murmurs, “and it’s no problem. Were family now, it’s my job to keep you out of trouble.” 

“That can be an awfully difficult job,”Steve teases causing to Becca laugh. Steve’s always been told he can be a magnet for trouble. 

Becca gives him a smile and he feels warmth build up in his chest, “Well I have lots of practice with Bucky, so I imagine it can’t be too hard.”

***

 

Steve’s drinking his morning tea and eating a light breakfast when Winifred practically burst into his room. 

He feels slightly awkward about the fact that he’s still in his pajamas, which at that moment, consists of Bucky’s old loose shirt and some underwear. She doesn’t seem to care, or notice his lack of clothing, instead she sits on the edge of the bed, folding her hands carefully on top of her lap. 

“Sorry to burst in on you this way, but I’ve just received some important news,” Winifred says very serious. “Apparently the Prince of Asgard is coming here to try to set up a deal for our steel in return for their weapons.”

Steve nods, he knows that Asgard makes the best weapons known. Unfortunately, they lack natural materials, therefore they have negotiate with other countries for the raw materials. 

“Typically, it would be my husband's or Bucky’s job to negotiate with a foreign leader of his caliber, but since neither of them are here, the burden falls onto us,” Winifred explains, sounding more like a queen and politician than he’s ever heard from her before. “It’s important that Lord Peirce does not take over the negotiations. I do not trust him to support the interest of the country.”  

“So you want me to lead the negotiations?” Steve asks. Considering King George doesn’t even want him to stand in as representative for Mullingar, he has a hard time believing they’d want him to lead negotiations with a powerful foreign ally. 

“Not alone of course,” Winifred gives him a comforting smile. “You’re the future of Yoshkar Steve. If we want to make a lasting alliance, it is best to create it through a lasting friendship.” 

“When is he going to arrive?” Steve asks. His lack of knowledge about Asgard,  and the royal family as a whole, means that they’ll have a lot of work to do. 

“The letter I received said he should be here by late afternoon tomorrow,” Winifred tells him. Steve knows that’s nowhere near enough time to prepare properly, but he’s going to try his best. “I suppose I better get ready then. We don’t have any time to lose.”

 

***

 

For the next two days Steve learns everything he possibly can about Asgard. Past trade deals, old and new alliances, who’ve they married, and who’ve the sent weapons to before. He also reads as much as he can about Thor Odinson, but he’s still too young to have a plethora of information about him. The most Steve could get was common gossip about Thor, mainly told to him by Sam and Tony. 

It’s all very enlightening, and he can also see that this meeting is going to be a challenge. Asgard is an alpha dominated society, even more than Yoshkar and Mullingar. For generations the royal family has only ever had alpha's, Thor included, and, from what Steve can gather, their opinions of omega’s aren't very high. 

Steve’s not sure how to start negotiations, let alone create a friendship. It’s definitely going to be a challenge if Thor only views omegas as property, because then Steve wouldn’t garner a second glance. As much as he and Winifred want to keep Thor out of Lord Pierce’s grip, there is a real possibility that the worst case scenario takes place. 

There are a few good aspects. From what Steve can tell, Yoshkar has always had a good relationship with Asgard, especially between the royal families. Asgard also seems to respect magic, and Steve can only hope that the fact that he’s a mage will aid him in winning Thor over. 

The importance of it weighs heavily on his shoulders, and not just because of the lasting effects a bad deal could have on Yoshkar’s relationship with Asgard. Steve knows it’s time for him to prove himself, that he’s just as useful, and intelligent, as any alpha or beta. He has to prove himself to everybody, not just King George, but to his council, and any diplomat who does not respect his position as a serious representative to Mullingar. 

Thor arrives with a flurry of commotion. No one seems to know just how long Thor plans on staying, but the large entourage he brings with him implies a long time. Steve finds himself waiting with Becca, Winifred, and Michael in the courtyard.

He’s a towering man, alpha through and through. Steve’s not at all surprised when Thor steps out of his carriage and proceeds to great Micheal first, the only alpha there, but also the lowest ranking member of the family. Traditionally, he should greet both Winifred and Steve before even looking in the direction of Becca and Michael. 

Steve wants to let his anger show, but he takes after Winifred, and keeps it carefully bundled up inside. Nothing good will come from being angry with Thor before they’ve even been properly introduced. 

Thor finally turns to look over at Winifred and Steve, “Queen Winifred, Prince Steven it is an honor to meet you both. It’s unfortunate that your husbands are not here for me to meet as well.” 

He kisses both their hands. Steve can only assume that the gesture must be common in Asgard because he’s never had someone kiss his hand before. The strange greeting feels disturbingly formal and unpractical. For a brief second Steve wonders if he should kiss Thor's hand back, but when Thor makes no move to hold his hand out, Steve figures it must only be for omegas.

“We are honoured to have you in Yoshkar Prince Thor,” Winifred says giving him a polite, but overall emotionless smile, “We hope you enjoy your stay with us here.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Thor says already sounding distracted from the conversation, “It’s been a long journey. I’d like to rest in my chambers.” 

Steve wants to roll his eyes, Thors not much different then most alphas. He seems to have little awareness of what's going on around him, brash as the best of time, and downright rude at the worst. From rumours he’s been told about Thor, he’s known for acting like a petulant child when he doesn't get his way. 

“Of course,” Winifred says calmly, “Prince Steve will escort you to your chambers. It’s in the eastern wing of the castle.” 

Thor strolls after Steve. Even though Steve’s leading the way, he still feels like he has to jog to keep up with Thorns longer legs. The room is on the other side of the castle, and he’s sure the servants have been instructed to go through the, quicker, secret halls within the walls, but he and Thor have to take the long way. 

“You are the Prince from Mullingar. King George captured you as a war prize,” Thor says casually, as though it's a light remark. Though the words themselves are true, Steve doesn’t actually  _ like _ being called a war prize. 

“Yes,” Steve replies, trying to keep his voice equally as light, “I know lots about you too. I’ve heard about your turbulent engagement too. I’m sure that's closely related to why you're here, instead of in Asgard,  _ happily _ waiting to get married.” 

Though Steve is personally sympathetic towards anyone forced into an arranged marriage, he knows better than to let those emotions show. Asgard is a kingdom of alpha's and warriors, keeping a steady demeanor will suit him better in the long run. 

Thor makes grunting noise as acknowledgment to his comment, “I suppose people like us tend to have turbulent engagements.”

Steve finds he can’t help but let out a snort of laughter. He can’t really disagree, considering he spent almost his entire engagement as a prisoner. It may seem rocky engagements come with being a prince.

“Maybe,” Steve says with a shrug, feelings of neutrality replacing his original annoyance. 

He leaves Thor in his chambers before heading back to his own. Steve knows what needs to be done, what he needs from Thor's in order to work his way into Yoshkar’s delicate political system.  

Yoshkar’s political system is a carefully balanced puzzle, much more complicated than anything in Mullingar, or any other country Steve knows of. The role of a diplomat is much more complicated, the amount of power they have is unheard of, which is why becoming Mullingar’s  representative is so important. 

The majority of foreign diplomats are appointed by the ruler of the country their from, and then are later approved by King George. The diplomats who represent different provinces within Yoshkar, get approved by the council in their province, and are given the final seal of approval by King  George. 

None of that is unusual, but was is strange, is that diplomats can still become representatives without King George's approval. As long as they get at least sixty five percent approval, from both the foreign and civil diplomats, they could become a diplomatic representative. Though typically only a system used for diplomats from a Yoshkar province, there are no rules, that Steve could find, that prohibit a foreign diplomat from doing as such. 

A larger country, such as Asgard, has more votes. Therefore, having their support would significantly improve his chances of winning over the diplomats support. He already has the Vale countries supporting him, and, according to Wanda, the provinces in the North are backing him as well. 

He knows King George won’t be happy. Steve’s very clearly going behind his back, which is why he has to do as much work as possible before King George returns. After he gets back, Steve will have to be much sneaker about his plans. 

Gaining Thor's support, and through him Asgard's, is the key to him becoming the representative of Mullingar. The larger the country, the more votes they have in the council, and Asgard has the greatest amount of votes. 

Steve heads straight to his chambers He has some planning to do.

 

***

 

He’d thought it would be his use of magic that would win Thor over, but the moment of truth comes when Thor stumbles across him training with Natasha. They’ve been going at it for several rounds in the ring, and Steve’s practically dripping with sweat. His whole body feels as though it's been covered by a layer of water. 

It’s been a week since Thor has arrived, and Steve has made little to no ground. Thor seems uninterested in him besides simple polite conversations, and that doesn’t get Steve anywhere. He tried almost everything he could think of to get Thor's attention, let alone getting him to listen to his ideas. 

“Steven!” Thor's booming voice radiates through the training room, and Natasha nearly topples him over with a well placed kick, “I did not know you were such a formidable warrior. It is quite exciting to see your training in action.” 

He thinks Thor might be teasing him a little because he’s certainly not a  _ fomidial warrior  _ by any stretch of the imagination. He smiles anyway, moving to the edge of the training ring, “Natasha has been teaching me how to fight recently. In Mullingar I was never allowed to.” 

“Learning how to defend oneself is very important,” Thor says sounding very serious, “It is good that lady Natasha is teaching you such a useful skill.” 

“Natasha and I were just about to go wash up and have lunch,” Steve says, trying not to look horrifyingly disgusting as he wipes sweat from his forehead, “You're welcome to join us if you’d like.” 

“I think I will,” Thor says brightly, and Steve hurries to get ready, not wanting to give Thor a chance to change his mind. 

They meet in the courtyard, riding in the royal carriage to the same restaurant he once met Tony Stark in. They are seated right a way into a comfortable booth in the back where there shouldn’t be too many invasive looks. The waitress look like she’s going to pass out, especially after Natasha gives her a catlike grin. 

“I know that you’ve been trying to make a deal with me.” Steve’s surprised by Thor's bluntness, “Though I would never claim to be any kind of politician, I grew up in court, and I know when somebody wants something from me.” 

Steve had hoped to be able to breach the topic in a more subtle fashion, but he’s always been a fan of straight to the point, “You're right. I have been trying to make a deal. We want to continue trading metal for weapons with Asgard.”

“That's all?” Thor questions looking genuinely surprised. He shares a quick look with Natasha before making his decision. 

“Actually there's something else I wish to discuss with you,” Steve begins cautiously. “I’m hoping to have Asgard’s support for placing me as Mullingars representative in Yoshkar.  _ Without _ nomination from King George.”

“King george doesn’t want you to become representative of Mullingar?” Thor questions him. 

“He has decided that I’m not the right choice, but I don’t agree with his verdict,” Steve says trying to sound as diplomatic as possible. 

Natasha cuts in then, “Steve has the full support of all the Vale nations, along with Telford, and many of the northern countries, as well as support from the leaders of provinces through Yoshkar, including my own.” 

“This is a serious decision. Going against King George this way could be considered unwise. I will have to send word to the advisors back in Asgard before I can make any public statement about it,” Thor replies. 

Even though it's not a yes, Steve still finds himself grinning, “You'll consider my proposal seriously?” 

Thor nods, “Yoshkar may be an ally to Asgard at the moment, but were worried about how quickly they have been expanding into new territories. Their invasion of Mullingar has made many countries very nervous. I’m sure other western countries would follow my example in order to get another representative on our side in the Yoshkar court.” 

Steve had hoped something like this would happen. King George can’t decide to go to war with another country without the majority of approval from his diplomatic council, and Steve’s vote could be crucial to stopping him in the future. Steve had hoped that Asgard’s concern for Yoshkar expansion would lead to them supporting him. 

 “Lets drink!” Thor proposes holding up his glass full of Yoskar dark wine, “Let us drink here to the future.” 

“The future!” Steve cheers letting their glasses clink together. He takes a  _ long _ satisfying sip. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again sorry for the long gap between updates, i'm hoping the next chapter will be finished sooner. I've planned out the whole story now and what i want in each chapter so it's going to be 22 chapter's long! Which means it's over half way done! thank you to everyone whose left comments and kudos, it's really motivated me to keep working on this and to low_key_nerdy for editing it! 
> 
> up next: Bucky returns and Steve's plans start to come together


	14. Chapter 14

Bucky’s been gone for only a month, and he can’t help but feel a wave of relief when he sees the castle towers. Finally back in Yoshkar, his home, and finally back with Steve. 

It’s gotten less painful, however their bond still hasn’t fully settled, so the separation anxiety was intense. It was better once he was in Antegrade, and he had more than just boring travel to occupy his time with. He still often found his hand drifting up to clutch at the light pendant wrapped around his neck. 

He rides at the head of the group, not wanting to lag at the back. The faster he reaches the castle the better. Their goal was mostly unachieved, through antegrade vowed their undying support for Yoshkar, they also stated, that if Steve chose to campaign, or accept the nomination for diplomatic representative of Mullingar, they would give their lasting support to him.

The bonds of the Vale nations had been stronger than anyone expected. Instead of the conquering of Mullingar separating them and causing weariness, the end result proved to have only made their unity tighter.

Bucky doesn’t think about that now, he’s spent the past month dwelling on almost nothing but that. He’s tired of being a Prince, a politician, a diplomat; he just wants to simply be Bucky, if only for a short time. 

Their arriving several days earlier than they had planned, but there's still a small party to greet them, including both his mother and sister. Though the embraces warm his heart, he’s slightly disappointed not to see Steve among them. 

His mother laughs and pinches his cheeks, like she used to do when he was a child, “You silly boy. So transparent. He’s in the training room with Natasha.” 

His kisses his mother on the forehead, remembering when he was a child; she seemed so tall and impressive. Now he’s almost an entire head taller than her, but she’s remained equally as impressive. 

She swats him with a light laugh and Becca rolls her eyes motioning for him to get a move on. “It’s as though you both are not even excited to see me,” Bucky teases and Becca lets out an unimpressed huff. 

“Go see your husband,” Becca orders. It could almost be considered sharp, if it wasn’t for the soft form her words took on at the end. 

Bucky moves his way through the castle in long strides, not even bothering to take off his thick traveling clothes and muddy boots. They’d been overall lucky, not experiencing any bouts of horrible weather, and the days on their way back had edged out of freezing into only brisk. 

When he first spots Steve, his back towards Bucky. He’s in the rink with Clint, who normally don’t seem especially large, but compared to Steve, he looks almost impossibly tall and muscular. 

He watches Clint nudge at Steve with the edge of his wooden sword, and Steve turns around quickly as a reaction to whatever Clint said. Bucky watches as Steve’s face breaks into a large grin throwing his wooden sword onto the ground. He clambers out the training ring, nearly tripping in his urgency. 

Steve takes a running start and throws himself into Bucky's arms, obviously not caring at all how dramatic the move seems. He’s barefoot and looks slightly sweaty from working out, but Bucky couldn’t care less about any of that. Bucky catches him happily, feeling even more pleased when Steve wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist so their fully twined together. 

He’s sure they look ridiculous to onlookers, but Bucky doesn’t pay attention to any of that, instead he simply pressing his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. Steve cups Bucky’s face in his warm palms and kisses him thoroughly, and in a way that's almost too dirty for such a public place. 

Steve scratches his fingers through the small beard that Bucky’s let grow out over the last month, “Look at this beard! I can hardly even recognize you.” 

Bucky moves his head good naturedly at Steve’s soft teasing, “I think I look rather handsome with a beard.” 

“So vain,” Steve tries to sound scolding, but it comes out more fond after he presses a kiss to Bucky’s cheek, “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another two days?” 

“There's supposed to be a storm coming up, so my father decided it was best if we got here before then,” Bucky explains, carefully setting Steve back down on his feet. Though he doesn’t mind holding Steve, he can tell their making a scene, and he’d prefer to save their more personal interactions for the privacy of their own bedroom. 

“We’ll I’m glad your back,” Steve murmurs, sounding incredibly fond, “I’ve missed you so, so much.”

Bucky presses a kiss to Steve's forehead, “I missed you too, and I’m  _ so _ happy to finally be back home. Next time I go to another country I promise you're coming with me.”

Steve smiles at Bucky’s words and links his arms around his waist. Even sweaty, and flushed red across his cheeks, Bucky still finds Steve so incredibly beautiful. Bucky still doesn’t believe that he’s lucky enough to have Steve as his husband. 

“We should go take a nice warm bath,” Bucky suggests with a grin already imagining the feeling of being surrounded by warm water and Steve. 

“You sayin’ I smell?” Steve shoots back giving him look of faux anger. 

Bucky grins and carefully links their hands together, “Only like roses and lavender.”

Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s teasing and mumbles something along the lines of, “I sure didn’t miss your smart mouth,” just loud enough for Bucky to hear him. Bucky bumps himself gently into Steve's side in retaliation. 

Their rooms are unchanged since Bucky’s left, his books are still scattered around the room, as if he had never left. Bucky sheds his clothes, unwrapping layers of thick wool and thin cotton, letting them drop to the floor as Steve goes and draws them a bath. 

Bucky comes up behind Steve, curling his arms around Steve’s waist, and watches the tub fill with water. Steve leans back and presses a light kiss to the underside of Bucky’s jaw, and made a face when his beard scratched him. Bucky reaches around him and turns of the water, as steam gently rises. 

He climbs into the warm water and watches Steve strip out of his cloths, enjoying watching him reveal pink flushed skin. Steve climbs into the bath, and Bucky pulls him so he’s curled up in his lap. Bucky kisses down the side of Steve’s face. Even sweaty Bucky finds that Steve smells good. 

“Are you smelling me?” Steve asks as he leans his head against Bucky’s shoulder running his hand up his side,  looking any excuse to touch. 

“You smell good doll,” Bucky loves the way Steve flushes any times he calls him that, “I love being here with you, don’t ever want to be apart again. Is that crazy to want?”

“Maybe,” Steve says getting on his knees, so he can kiss Bucky thoroughly, “but I feel exactly the same way.”

“Really?” sometimes Bucky doesn’t believe Steve feels anything but hate for him. There's no reason for Steve to tolerate him, like him, and actually want to spend time with him. Though Bucky might have not done it directly, he was part of the reason Steve’s kingdom was taken over and Steve was forced to leave his home, therefore he hardly deserves any forgiveness. 

“Of course Buck,” Steve presses his warm palms against Bucky’s face, “You’re probably my best friend. How many people are lucky enough to be married to their best friend.”

“Oh Stevie,” he draws Steve up against him, slipping slightly and sloshing water over the side. They don’t even kiss, Bucky just presses his forehead against Steve's, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped up around each other, “What did I ever do to deserve you? How did I get so lucky?”

“I was so ready to hate you. I thought hating you would be the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” with Steve’s words, Bucky can’t help but think about how terrible he was to Steve in the beginning, how he ignored him, snapped at him. That version of himself seems so easy to hate. 

Bucky washes Steve carefully, not stopping when Steve insist that he’s the one who should be washing Bucky. He simply enjoys touching Steve, washing his soft blonde hair down to his flat feet. Steve stops arguing after a few minutes, becoming perfectly plaint in Bucky’s hold. 

Steve looks only one small step away from sleep, leaning against the side of the tub opposite to him. Bucky lets Steve be as he climbs from the tub, throwing on his robe as he goes to stand in front of the sink. 

He shaves quickly, happy to watch his beard slowly lead to a clean shaven face. Bucky had only kept it because it made him blend in with people in antegrade but he’s ready to be himself again. The beard made him feel older, the beard also makes him look disturbingly like his father.

When he’s done he turns to look back at Steve, who gives him a sleepy smile. He carefully brushes Steve's already partially dry hair from where it always seems to flop into his eyes, always surprised to find it as soft as silk. 

He helps Steve climb out of the tub, almost slipping and having them both topple over. Steve laughs loudly, almost slipping again before getting a secure grip on Bucky's metal arm. For once, he’s thankful for the metal arm because they would have been sitting on the hard tile floor. 

They both dress quickly in their bedroom, while they were in the bath one of the maids returned all of Bucky’s clothes to the dresser. When he finally finishes getting dressed Steve's sitting on the end of the bed legs criss crossed, looking at Bucky expectantly. 

“What?” Bucky asks reaching forwards and taking Steve’s hands in his. 

Steve just shakes his head and turns away from Bucky staring down at their linked hands, “Are you hungry Buck? I bet you are. You should eat something that you couldn’t get in antegrade. It’ll make it even more special.” 

“Steve?” Bucky asks quietly curling his palm around Steve’s face, “What's the matter? Why do you look so sad all of a sudden.” 

Steve leans forward and presses the crown of his head against Bucky’s stomach, though it gives him easy access to gently massage at Steve's shoulders, it feels like an excuse not to look at him, “I’m not supposed to need anyone, but I  _ need you _ .”

“I need you too,” Bucky murmurs quietly running his fingers down Steve's back, “There's nothing wrong with needing other people. Everyone needs someone.”

They rest in silence for long moments, Bucky desperately wants to know what Steve's thinking, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he runs his hands up and down Steve’s back, eventually letting them rest gently on the nape of his neck. 

“We should get pancakes,” Steve says looking up at Bucky with a wide smile, “Pancakes, eggs, and bacon.”

“Breakfast for dinner,” Bucky grins relieved that the earlier tension has evaporated, “Nobody told me I was married to a genius.”

Steve rolls his eyes and flops onto his back with a smile. Cap crawls her way up onto the bed, walking along Steve's stomach,  before finally coming to rest on his side. Bucky takes that as a clear sign that he’ll be the one ordering the food. 

That night curled up in bed with Steve, stomach full of breakfast food, it seems easier to fall asleep then it has in awhile. Right before he drifts off he wraps his hand around the pendant, so used to holding it while drifting off to sleep. 

Steve wiggles against his side, “I’m right here Buck. You don’t have to hold onto that anymore.”

Bucky wraps himself around Steve's back and falls right asleep. 

 

***

 

His mother's sitting in her sitting room, a stack of official looking papers in her lap and a cup of coffee in her hand. She smiles at him, waving for him to come sit in the spot besides her. 

“I’m glad you're here,” she moves the stack of papers onto the coffee table giving him her full attention. 

“You asked me to come here,” Bucky points out, the request hadn’t explained why, and he doesn’t know if he should be concerned. Though she smiles reassuringly at him, he still feels slightly worried. 

“You're right I did,” she pats his knee, “There's something important I need to talk about with you. Specifically the tea I know both Rebecca and Steve are taking.”

He wonders if it's a test to see if he’ll confirm her suspicions, so he keeps quiet. He promised Becca he wouldn’t tell anyone, and he knows, for Steve's stake, it's certainly better for no one else to know. Especially anyone likely to tell his father. 

“Don’t say it outright if you don’t want to, but one of the maids found some in Becca’s room and told me,” his mother explains, “It didn’t take long before the maids found it in your and Steve's room too.”

“You went through my room? Like me and Steve are some kind of common criminals, or children,” Bucky can’t help but snap. His privacy feels completely violated. Going behind his back to do something like that. 

His mother sets him with a reprimanding stare, “It wasn’t as though it was very hard to find. I mean really. . . behind the sink? The spot you used to use as a  _ boy _ . Your lucky it was one of the maids I appointed instead one that would have told your father.”

“Are you going to make us stop,” he has a feeling he already knows what the answer will be, but he can’t help but ask. 

He’s surprised when he finds the satchel of tea set in his lap, still full from the last time he’d refilled it. His surprise must be obvious because his mother laughs. 

“I know having children is frightening, especially for two people who are as new to each other as you and Steve are,” she gives him hand a tight squeeze, “Your father's getting anxious for you or Becca to have a child. Use the tea for a few more months, but you know as well as I, that your father's going to expect Steve to be pregnant within the first year.”

“I know,” Bucky says in a deep breath, “You're not mad though?”

“How do you think I only had two children? I drank the tea for years after Becca was born,” his mother says it with a grin similar to a child's caught doing something naughty, “So no, I’m not mad at any of you.”

“Are you going to tell father?” That's the part Bucky really fears for. He’s aware how angry his father would be, and not just at him, but at Steve and Becca, which is far more important. His father's hurt Steve enough as it is. 

“No I’m not,” his mother promises, “I know it's scary, but the kingdoms is at it's best when there is the promise of a continued line, a future heir. Have at least one child, then Steve can take the tea for a while. You’ll both make wonderful parents.”

He wraps his mother in a tight hug, laying his head on her shoulder like he used to do as a kid. They hug tightly, and just like that, it's easy to forget how much taller, and stronger he is than her, “Thank you for not telling him. Thank you.”

“You’ll always be my baby boy Bucky, and I’m always going to take care of you,” she curls her fingers lightly through his hair, “I know sometimes it hard for you to see,  but your father loves you. Sometimes doing what's right for you, and what's right for the country contradict. It's a battle all monarchs have to deal with.”

“I’ll have to tell Steve about all this,” something heavy sits in Bucky’s stomach at the thought of that. One of the fews things Steves asked for was to hold off on having children, and he might not even be able give him that. 

“He’ll understand,” she tries to reassure hi,  but it doesn’t work. “He’s young, in a new place, and that all makes having a child very scary, but’ll he’ll understand.”

Bucky almost wishes Steve wasn’t in their rooms, so he could put off the inevitable. He is though, and Bucky sits down heavily beside him in the couch, setting down the tea leafs on the coffee table. 

“My mother found out about the tea leafs,” he can hear the intake of breath as he says these words. 

“I last used it only two days ago,” Bucky remembers that night fondly, and he’s positive he’s blushing as Steve's words. 

“One of the maids found it in Becca’s room, so my mom had them search our room too,” Bucky explains, “It's my fault. I should have found a better hiding place for it. I should have known better.”

Steves eyes dart over to the tea, “I don’t understand? Why’d she give it back to us? Isn’t she angry?”

“No she’s not angry,” Bucky carefully takes Steve's hands in preparation for what's he’s going to have to say, “We have some time, months. . . but eventually, she wants you to stop taking the tea. Preferably sooner, rather than later.”

Steve turns away from him and bites his lip in anxiety, almost to the point of breaking the skin. Bucky wishes desperately that he had a different answer to give Steve. That he could go back to this morning when things seemed so much simpler. 

“I’m not ready to have a pup. I’m just not,” Steve looks to be resting somewhere between despair and full blown anger, “It's not fair. I’ve already given so much, why do I have to give this too.”

“I wish I knew how to fix this,” Bucky says earnestly and makes an attempt to catch Steve's gaze who only turns further away from him, “My father wants me to have an heir. I can’t go against what's my duty.”

“I hate your father!” Steve spits out with such ferocity it feels like a slap in the face, “He’s taken everything from me. My home, my family,  _ my kingdom!  _ And now he’s going to take this from me too.”

Steve anger hits him with the full force of a hurricane, getting quickly absorbed into the frustration that bleeds through the room. His anger posses the ferocity of a wild animal that's never been colored before, not even leaving the possibility that it could be in some way controlled. 

“He’s my father Steve,” Bucky can’t fully defend him, for at his own moments, he hates his father too, “He’s just trying to do what he thinks is right for the kingdom.” 

“My own father spent years doing what's right for the kingdom, and all that he really did was hurt his family over and over again,” Steve doesn’t talk about his father often, and Bucky lets his words sink in. 

Bucky wants to promise that everything will be okay, that having a kid won’t be the most terrifying thing, but he can’t. Bucky feels just as uneasy about the idea of having a child, and he’s not the one who’ll have to birth it. He can’t find it in himself to be mad at Steve because he can’t blame him for being angry at all. 

“Were going to figure it all out,” Bucky promises and Steve raises an eyebrow at him. He looks completely unconvinced, body curling in on itself like a spring about to snap. It's looking at Steve's tension filled limbs that finally gives him an idea. 

He takes Steve's hand in his, not stopping when he tries to pull back, insisting they he follows Bucky. He knows the best thing to do for Steve is to help him get as much anger out as he can, and Bucky doesn’t see a good way to do that in their chambers. 

They end up in the mostly empty training hall as the majority of people are having lunch. He takes Steve into the one of the fighting rings with a punching bag hanging in the center, looking slightly worn out from overuse. 

He helps wrap Steve hands to protect against split knuckles, making sure it's carefully pinned in place, “I want you to punch the bag as hard as you can. Get all the anger out.”

Steve gives him a skeptical look but punches the bag with an impressive amount of strength. Within a few punches Steve's grinning, hitting at the bag with an increasingly amount of frociety. Bucky simply leans back against the railing, watching as the tension slowly leaves Steve's shoulders. 

Before long Steve's red faces and sweaty with sagging shoulders. Boxing certainly isn’t easy, and Steve lasted impressively long. It seems, that for the month Bucky was gone, Steve had gained more muscle, but he still looks as skinny as ever. 

He turns and starts unwrapping his knuckles, “I still feel pretty angry.”

“That's okay. We can come back as often as you need,” Bucky tells him, “I know your anger’s not going to be completely gone, but maybe you feel a little better?”

“Yeah I do,” Steve says with a small smile on his face. He hooks their hands together and Bucky doesn’t mind one bit that they're sticky with sweat. 

Bucky can’t say that he’s  _ not _ surprised to find how easy it's been, for him to fall in love with Steve Rogers. 

 

***

 

 Bucky usually likes parties but at that moment he rather be somewhere a little more private. Steve’s just edging into the beginning stages of pre-heat, and anyone else probably wouldn't be able to tell, but being bonded means he’s on high alert towards things of that nature. Being in a room filled with people isn’t  _ exactly _ what he’d like to be doing at the moment.  

It’s a party for Thor, who in the morning will be returning to Asgard. Bucky’s not entirely sure, but he thinks Thor was sent to Yoshkar as some sort of punishment, and Bucky assumes his early departure means he did something right. 

They've only spoken a few times, since he’s been back, his father’s spent most of his energy monopolizing Thors time in order to create an even closer alliance with Asgard. Though Bucky hasn’t mentioned it to his father, he thinks spending so much time on Thor is a waste, they have more fragile alliances to spend time cultivating. 

Thors seated between Bucky and his mother, Alexander had tried to squeeze himself in there, but his mother had held her ground. He doesn't know what happened when they were gone, but his mother seems to dislike Alexander even more than before. 

Bucky’s already taken a few turns around the dance floor, finally stopping after Thor intervened between him and Steve. He knows it’s all the pheromones from Steve’s pre-heat that are making him jealous, but he finds himself glaring at Thor as he moves around the dance floor. 

“Stop glaring so much,” Becca says jabbing him in the side lightly with her elbow, “You look like you're one second away from tearing his head off.” 

“No I’m not,” Bucky snaps back only for her to give him a extremely unimpressed look, “Maybe I am a little. I suppose if I can’t glare at him. . . I’ll just have to glare at you.” 

“Trust me, I’m not the one who you should be glaring at,” Becca says turning to point across the room, “Rumlow has been undressing Steve with his eyes all night long.” 

Brock is staring at Steve with a surprising amount of intensity though Bucky’s not sure it’s as lustful as Becca’s making it out to be. Instead, to Bucky at least, he seems more angry than lustful, watching Steve’s every move to know just the right moment to strike. 

Bucky still lets out a low growl. He doesn’t really care who Brock’s staring at, but he knows that he wants him to stop. He’s happy when the song comes to an end, and Thor leads Steve back to their table. 

“I’m glad the advisors came to that conclusion,” he overhears Thor say, “I was worried they wouldn’t see the value, but Asgards always been close with the countries of the Vale. We owe them our support.” 

“What are you two talking about?” Bucky asks trying to act as though he wasn't eavesdropping, even if clearly was. 

“The Asgard council has decided to support Steve in his endeavors to gain diplomatic position as the representative of Mullingar,” Thor says proudly, give them both a wide smile. 

Bucky turns to look at Steve whose frozen completely, “Is this true? Are you really going to campaign yourself?”

Steve comes to sit besides Bucky. Thor, who's still standing, is looking back and forth between the two of them awkwardly. Steve looks down at his hands which are folded in his lap, carefully twirling the ring Bucky gave him as a present from Antegrade around his finger. 

“When were you planning on telling me this?” Bucky asks. He’s been back for almost two weeks, and Steve's hardly mentioned Mullingar. Or the council. Let alone mentioned the fact that's he’s going to be campaigning for a seat of his  _ own _ . 

“I was going to tell you. Just once everything was more finalized. It's still all so up in the air,” Steve argues. 

Bucky scoffs, “When was that going to be? As you're bringing your case to the diplomatic representatives of the council? Or right before?”

“You don’t get to be angry at me,” Steve snaps eyes narrowing, “You knew this was something I wanted. I deserve that seat. You know I do. Nobody knows Mullingar the way I know it.”

“I’m not angry,” as Bucky says this Steve raises his eyebrows in disbelief, “Maybe a little, but not about that. I just wish you had  _ told _ me. We’re a team Steve. I want to help you with things like this, but I can’t if you don’t even tell me what's going on.”

“I just can’t really believe it's going to happen,” Steve says quietly giving Bucky a small watery smile, “I can’t believe people actually support me, support Mullingar.”

“Of course they do doll,” Bucky presses a quick kiss to Steve's forehead, “You deserve to represent Mullingar, and everyone knows it. I’m going to do everything I can to get you that seat.”

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s shoulder and pulls him down into a hug. It’s slightly awkward, but he doesn't mind a bit. He happily tucks his face into the side of Steve’s neck, taking a long deep breath. 

“You wanna take me for a spin around the dance floor?” Steve asks him giving a playful smile. 

Bucky takes Steve’s hand in his, and pulls him right up out of his chair, “I can’t think of a single thing I'd like more.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! next one will be posted sometime within the next week-ish. Thank you to everyone whose left comments and kudos and to Low_key_nerdy for editing this chapter! 
> 
>  
> 
> up next: smut and political drama


	15. Chapter 15

Though Steve knew his heat was coming, it stills feels like a bit of a surprise when it fully hits. It’s the middle of the night, dark enough that for a minute, he’s not even sure if his eyes are open or closed. Bucky’s asleep next to him, mouth slightly open and snoring loudly into a pillow. As Steve turns on his back, Bucky’s arm, which is draped over him, gets jostled slightly causing Bucky to let out a grunt in his sleep. 

Steve wiggles in the sheets, trying to find a position that will relieve his heat cramps. It's doesn't really help, and all Steve wants to do is throw off the covers and bask in the light coolness of his bedroom. Heats during the winter are always more enjoyable because the cool air ends up being a relief for his burning skin. 

As Steve continues to wiggle around in bed Bucky makes a another grunting noise. While rolling away from him, Bucky mumbles, “Go back to sleep Stevie. It's still so early.” 

“Bucky,” he draws the word out into a long whine, “Come on Buck wake up.” 

“No,” Bucky grumbles in retaliation though he’s already starting to open his eyes, giving Steve a bleary stare, “Why couldn’t your heat have waited for the morning to come?” 

“Oh poor you,” Steve says in a tone overflowing with sarcasm, “Having to wake up in the middle of the night and fuck your handsome husband. What ever shall you do?” 

Bucky lets out a snort of laughter and moves over just far enough to press his face into Steve’s scent glands, “Such a dirty mouth you have.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t. I’ve heard the way you talk with the Commando’s, bad enough that if your mother heard she’d probably wash your mouth out with soap,” Steve replies pulling Bucky, so he’s laying half on top of him, enjoying the feeling of almost being crushed into the mattress. Bucky, who always seems so aware of how much bigger he is then Steve, moves so he’s bracing most of his own weight on the metal arm. 

Bucky runs a hand up one of Steve’s thighs, coming to cup his ass with a warm hand. He’s not wearing sleep pants, the impending heat made it to warm for them. Bucky thumbs playfully at the line of Steve’s underwear. Steve wiggles to free himself of  the sleep shirt, where it was wrapped tightly around his body, and he’s happy when Bucky gets the message and pulls it off him. 

He watches as Bucky pulls off his own clothes with fluid motions, and Steve’s always surprised to see how graceful Bucky can be. If he wasn't a prince, Steve likes to think Bucky would have made an excellent dancer. 

They kiss slowly, sleepy kisses and gentle grinding, that still somehow leaves Steve breathless. He doesn't imagine he’ll ever get used to the feeling of uncontrollable want that hits him during his heat. Like no matter what Bucky does, it’s just not quite enough. 

Steve thinks back to the lonely heats in Mullingar, and couldn’t he be happier to have Bucky by his side. He hated being locked in his rooms for days, and the only time he saw people were when the maids scurried in and out dropping off food that he didn’t even want to eat. The heat cramps used to be so bad that sometimes he’d fine himself throwing up any food he managed to get down. 

Now Bucky takes care of him even when Steve tries to push him off in the name of independence. It’s easy, with Bucky taking care of him, to forget how horrible heats were in Mullingar, and he hopes he never takes them for granted 

Steve wraps his legs around Bucks waist, who's kissing a trail from neck to shoulder. Steve occupies himself by tracing the muscles on Bucky’s back before curling his fingers into his hair. Though Bucky’s never said it out loud, Steve knows he likes it when Steve plays with his hair so he curls his finger into his soft locks and pulls gently. 

Bucky licks a stripe across his collarbone. Steve lets out a high pitched squeal, “Bucky! What are you doing?” 

“Just tasten’ you. You taste delicious. Want to eat you right up,” Bucky says nibbling playfully at his collarbone.” 

“Bucky, that's gross!” Steve pulls back slightly, and he’s sure his nose is scrunched up, especially when Bucky gives him a fond smile and pokes his nose gently. 

“It’s not gross,” Bucky’s words end up muffled, “It’s not my fault that you just taste so good.” 

“Still gross,” Steve mumbles but he lacks conviction. Bucky runs careful hands up Steve’s thighs to finally tug his underwear off. The bed still feels too hot so he half heartedly tries to push the covers off before getting them stuck around his leg. Bucky ends up finishing the job with a snort of laughter, only leaving the sheet wrapped around them. 

“You wet for me doll?” Bucky asks voice going low, “Bet you are. Bet you’re all nice and ready for me.” 

Steve surprises himself with a moan, tightening his legs around Bucky’s hips. Bucky jostles them so he can kiss Steve's stomach and he finds himself giggling at how much it tickles. Bucky’s delighted by the new discovery and gives his sides the same treatment. 

“Come on do something,” Steve urges about to take his poor neglected cock into his own hands in a very literal sense. 

“You mean like this,” Bucky says and slowly presses a finger in. Though Steve’s wet enough that's it’s not even a stretch he’s also sensitive enough that he can’t help but moan loudly. Bucky grins triumphantly up at him before pressing a kiss to the very center of his chest. 

When he adds a second and third finger, Steve feels a slight burn. The feeling of being overly slick and overly sensitive makes everything feel a little strange. Makes everything feel slightly off. Keeps him from getting completely lost in the feeling. 

Steve wants Bucky’s cock, and feels embarrassed because of it. He’s always hated the idea of being some horny little omega who needs an alpha's knot to be satisfied. Steve has always tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t just fall apart for his baser needs. Even if that's what he wants, he  _ refuses _ to beg for bucky’s cock. 

He’s glad Bucky’s knows him well enough to know that he won’t beg, or at least not while his brain still partially functioning. Before Bucky pushes, in he kisses both of Steve's knees, running his hands up and down Steve’s body. He’s not sure why, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind that he’s all skin and bones, lavishing all of his sharp edges with kisses. 

Omega’s were supposed to be soft, all their edges gentle curves. Instead he turned out sharp. Bucky doesn’t mind his sharpness, but seems to enjoy it. 

He moans loudly when Bucky begins moving, bracing himself over Steve, “You feel so good doll, love how you feel. Never felt anything so good. You're so good to me doll.”

It’s something they realised early on that Steve's incredibly receptive to Bucky talking to him during sex. By the end of his sentence Steve knows he’s probably wetter than he’s ever been, and is moaning wantonly like an omega from those dirty books for alpha’s. 

“You feel so good baby, so wet for me,” Bucky nibbles at his earlobe as he slowy begins to move. Steve wraps his legs more solidly around Bucky, digging his heels into his back without even realising. 

“C'mon Bucky,” Steve murmurs urging him on, “You can go harder, I know you can.”

Bucky kisses him hard and Steve finds himself easily getting lost in their movements. He groans into Bucky’s mouth as he picks up the pace, reaching down to slowly begin stroking his own cock. He feels Bucky move slightly, resting more of his weight on his metal arm so he can use his other hand to loosely wrap around Steve’s. 

Steve already feels close to cuming. His heat is truly starting to consume him. Everything becomes a little blurry and hard to grasp like something from a dream. Distantly, Steve's worried about hurting Bucky where his nails are digging into the muscles of his back. The thought doesn’t stay for long, floating in and out of his mind like a cloud on a windy day. 

“Come for me babydoll. I know you want to,” Bucky’s voice has gone husky and gravely, “Gonna watch your face as you come all over yourself. You're gonna look so pretty.” 

Steve cums when Bucky bites down on the bond mark. Neither of them are prepared for what happens next. All the lamps in the room flicker abnormally bright for a single minute, both of them squinting against the sudden brightness, before finally the room goes dark again. 

“What the hell was that?” Bucky seems alarmed, knotted deep inside of Steve. He winces slightly as they move onto their sides, Bucky carefully leaning his weight off of Steve. 

“I don’t know…” Steve’s still buzzing with not only post orgasmic haze, but also the sudden burst of magic he let out, “That's never happened before.” 

“Stevie look, your hands are glowing,” Bucky says grasping one of Steve’s hand and holding it up. They’re glowly slightly, just enough to cast both their faces in a warm glow. Bucky cups his hand between them. 

Steve takes a quick caming breath and focuses on slowly retracting the pulses of magic coming through them, slowly the glowing retreats, “I didn’t even realise I was doing that. It's been years since my magic has gotten so out of control.”

“Do you know what could have caused it?” Bucky questions, still looking at Steve’s hands like he expects something to happen. 

“It used to happen all the time before I first met Dr. Erskine, he was the one who taught me magic back in Mullingar,” Steve explains, “While all mages have their own magic, our being around others who also possess magic tends to make it stronger. It’s why a lot of time mages prefer to travel in groups.” 

“What kind of magic would you be reacting off of?” Bucky asks, pushing Steve’s flop of blonde hair out of his face were it had been tickling his forehead. 

“Maybe the pendants,” Steve suggests, gently wrapping his fingers around the band of Bucky’s necklace. He doesn’t think it’s the pendant, he thinks that if they were to affect him that much he would have already reacted to it. Steve knows that Bucky doesn’t know enough about the logistics of magic to question him, and it’s better to just give him a solution to calm his nerves. 

Bucky makes a low noise of consideration, “Probably. I can’t believe you turned every lamp in the room on like that.” 

Steve musters up a smile in response, but he can already feel himself begin to drift off. The way that Bucky is rhythmically combing through his hair certainly isn’t helping, and he finds himself nuzzling his face deeper into the pillow.

“You tired doll?” Bucky asks and Steve can hear the grin in his voice. 

“Yeah,” Steve replies though it sounds more like a hum then anything else. He tucks himself carefully under Bucky’s chin, ignoring the fact that they're both still naked, and he has dried cum on his stomach and hand. He’s too tired to even think about cleaning himself up. They're still knotted so it's not like he could get up, even if he wanted to. 

“Go to sleep Stevie,” he shivers when Bucky wipes his thumb soothingly over the bond mark. He’s still surprised by the buzz that goes through him every time Bucky touches the mark. 

“I have to drink the tea,” Steve says struggling to keep his eyes open. He doesn’t have much time left to drink the tea, so he would like to make use of the time he has left.

Bucky tucks Steve back under his chin, and Steve finds it's easy for his eyes to drift close, “I’ll wake you up in a few hours and you’ll take it. Just go to sleep now doll. You need to rest.”

Steve wants to respond, but he’s already too tired to answer. 

 

***

 

Steve’s drinking his tea, still in his robe and a big pair of soft socks, when there's a light knock on the door. Briefly he thinks about asking them to wait so he can go change into something more presentable, but Steve figures anyone who wants to see him this early in the morning won’t care. He gulps down the tea as fast as he can (to clear up any evidence of it) wincing slightly at the burn. 

He opens the door to reveal Wanda, standing besides a man who looks to be about Wanda’s age. She gives Steve a quick smile, “Prince Steve, this is my brother Pietro. We were hoping to talk with you.”

Pietro remains silent and Steve suddenly feels very underdressed with both of them in their thick winter clothes, “You may come in. I just need to change.”

He welcomes them into the sitting room, motioning for them to both take a seat. Wanda’s been there multiple times before, as part of his household, they often meet in Steve's chambers. Pietro he’s never met before, but after a minute, he realises he must be Wanda’s twin brother, who she’s mentioned on multiple occasions. 

Steve retreats to his private chambers, switching from sleep clothes into something slightly more formal. Though the bulk of his heats over, there's some remnants of it, and he wears thinner clothing than the weather really warrants. He’s ready for winter to be over, he misses Mullingar’s early springs. 

Wanda and Pietro are sitting in two arm chairs, so Steve takes a seat on the couch opposite them, unsure where else to sit. He wonders if he still smells like heat. Wanda’s an omega, so she probably wouldn’t notice. But Pietro’s an unbound alpha, and Steve's sure he can tell. 

“Sorry to interrupt you so early,” Pietro says with an accent even stronger than Wanda’s, “I have to leave soon for home, but had to discuss this with you before I go.”

“Alright,” Steve says motioning for Pietro to go on with what he has to say.

“Lord Xavier told me that you are going to campaign to hold the seat of Representative to Mullingar. I’ve heard that the Vale countries and Asgard have pledged their full support to you, and I’ve convinced the Northern Alliance to do the same.”

“What?” Steve honestly can’t believe what he’s hearing, “I don’t understand? Why is the Northern Alliance doing this. What do you get from this?”

Pietro nods as though he understands Steve's very obvious concerns, “The Northern Alliance wants an alliance with the Vale, and supporting you seems to be the easiest way of achieving it. Besides, in the future when the Northern Alliance needs someone to negotiate directly to with King, I imagine you’ll be the right person to do so.”

The Northern Alliance is a group of five small countries that rest between Yoshkar’s northern border and Jotunheim’s southern one. Surrounded by those two larger and more powerful countries they seem to always be the edge of fading into nonexistence. 

“Mullingar doesn’t have a powerful army,” Steve points out. But at this point,  it's a well known fact, based on how easily they were taken over, “If that's what the Northern Alliance wants, then you’ll be unsatisfied. The people of the Vale are not warriors.”

Pietro gives him a small grin, “No the people of the Vale are not warriors, but they are farmers. The winters are long in the North and the summers short. We need food and preserves that will last us.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” Steve's pretty sure that Pietro has higher expectations than Steve can meet. He’s just one voice. He’s not even sure how much his opinion matters to others, even the other diplomats from the Vale. 

“You seem to forget that one day you’ll be King of Yoshkar,” Pietro says giving him a small smile. Wanda’s grinning too. Though when her brother turns to look at her,  Wanda’s face becomes static. 

“I’ll be an omega King, that's hardly a King at all,” Steve reminds. He’ll always be second to an alpha. He’ll be second to Bucky, the true king of Yoshkar. He would have been second in his own country. 

Wanda finally breaks into the conversation, “You underestimate yourself Steve. Bucky values your opinion, and you’ll be his partner on the throne.”

He’s not sure if she says it more for Steve's benefit, or to reassure Pietro that he’s making the right decision in supporting him. It seems to work well in Pietro’s case for he stands up, holding a hand out for Steve to shake, which he readily accepts. 

“I have to return to the Izium, there is important business regarding the mines,” Pietro explains, “I hope we will be speaking again very soon Prince Steven.” 

Wanda and Pietro leave. Wanda gives him a brief hug before slipping out of the door behind her brother. Steve feels the sudden urge to jump up and down in joy, finally it feels like things are beginning to shift his way. He throws on a coat, not caring if he smells sweet ,like post heat, and leaves the chambers. 

He finds Bucky in King George's office. He hovers in front of the door awkwardly for a minute before finally knocking on the door. A voice from inside beacons him in, however, he can’t tell whose it is, and he slowly opens the door to peak in. 

“Steve!” Bucky says turning to look at him, “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

He’d thought it would just be Bucky and King George in the room, but there's several more advisors who are all staring at Steve. He feels Lord Pierce looking with a shocking amount of intensity, almost wanting to close the door and block him out. 

“Sorry, everything's fine I was just hoping we could talk for a minute,” Steve says sounding sheepish. All his earlier excitement is slowly beginning to wane. He knows they can smell his post heat, and he’s ready to slam the door in the alpha’s faces, tired of the way they're looking at him. 

“Alright,” Bucky comes out into the hallway where Steve’s standing, only halfway in the doorway. Bucky closes the door behind him, and leads them to a small alcove away from prying ears. 

“Whats going on Stevie?” Bucky asks voice low with his hand wrapped tightly around Steve's. A maid passes them by, but doesn’t give them a second glance. 

“The Northern Alliance has agreed to support my appeal to become diplomatic Representative of Mullingar,” he keeps his voice low  but he’s sure his excitement is clear. 

Bucky’s face evolves into a large grin, “Steve that's great! Did Pietro just came over and tell you that? What do they expect from you in return?”

It takes a second for Steve’s brain to catch up with Bucky’s rushed out questions, “He wants trade deals with Mullingar, and, in the future, for me to speak in the Northern Alliance's favors, as a Prince, or maybe as a King.” 

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Bucky asks biting his lip, a painfully attractive nervous tick, “What if the want something bad from you?” 

“It was Wanda who brought Pietro to talk with me, and I trust her. I know she has my best intrest in mind.” It’s true that he does trust Wanda, but he’s smart enough to know not to trust Pietro completely, or any other leader from the Northern Alliance, especially since he hasn’t meant most of them. 

Bucky looks like he’s going to protest before he talks a long shuddering breath, “I trust your judgement, so if you think this is the right thing to do then I’m sure it is.” 

Steve knows he’s positively beaming, squeezing Bucky’s hands where they’re wrapped tightly in his. Bucky’s smile softens, it’s but just as warm. He presses a quick kiss to Steve lips before stepping back from him. 

“I’m sure my father's wondering where I’ve gone off to. I better head back in there before he sends someone out for me,” Bucky says, and Steve feels the sudden urge to never let him go. He wants to go back to being curled up in bed together, warm and content. 

“Okay,” Steve knows better than to think he can keep Bucky by his side at all times.

 

***

 

Steve wakes when a floorboard squeaks. He’s always been a heavy sleeper, but falling asleep had always been difficult for him, any little noise keeping him up. He’s been drifting somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, only halfway into dream land. 

It’s Bucky of course, who earlier had gone out with the Commando’s for drinks, and Steve certainly hadn’t expected him to come back any time before midnight. Steve had his own pleasant dinner with Sam, though after a long day of travel for Sam they’d gone back to their own rooms early. 

Bucky looks strange though, standing up far too straight and stiff for someone who's been drinking. Steve tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes, but that seems to only make them more bleary, eventually he gives up, sitting up slightly so he can rub the sleep from his eyes. 

“Buck?” Steve calls tentatively. Bucky doesn’t give a single sign that he heard what Steve said, “What’s going on? Why don’t you come to bed?” 

He takes several steps towards Steve before he shudders, swaying oddly on his feet like something's pulling him back. His body goes stiff for a few seconds, his hands painfully clenched by his sides. Steve’s struck by the fact that Bucky’s still wearing his boots which he always takes off as soon as he enters their bedroom. 

Steve pushes the covers off of himself and sits up fully, “Do you need help? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk like this, and I’m the only one of us that remembers our wedding night.” 

He means it to come off as teasing, but Bucky’s face remains completely blank. His gaze is cold and doesn’t seem to settle on anything, just drifting off to look someplace vaguely behind Steve’s shoulder. 

He’s starting to feel freaked out because he’s never seen Bucky act this way before, so completely distant and cold. He’s not sure if he should go up and pull Bucky in a tight hug, or stay as far away as possible and give him space. 

Bucky makes the decision for him, he moves with quick solid movements towards Steve. He’s not prepared at all for Bucky to grab at his shoulder and wrap his metal hand solidly around Steve’s throat. 

Steve freezes for a brief second taken by surprise. Then he grabs at Bucky’s metal hand, trying vainly to claw it off his throat. His breaths are already becoming labored, filling the otherwise silent room with loud painful gasps. Bucky’s hand is painfully solid around it’s his throat, and his actions to get free only seem to make him tighten his grip. 

He kicks at Bucky, slaps and punches with every ounce of strength he has. Bucky’s clearly stronger than him, with the built mussels and metal arm. Steve’s too frail to do any real damage to him, even with all the new moves Natasha’s taught him. Bucky’s gaze still remains clearly blank, like he’s not seeing what's right in front of his face. 

When black dots begin to fill his vision Steve knows what he has to do. He promised Bucky he would never use his magic on him, but Bucky also promised he would never hurt him. He supposes all situation have exceptions. 

He sends a hot jolt of magic through his hands which are presses to Bucky’s chest. Bucky shudders once, his grip on Steve’s neck going lax before he finally topples over right into the bed. His feet, still clad in his thick boots, hang off the bed awkwardly with the blanket caught around them. 

Steve takes quick shuddering breaths, trying to remember how it feels to breath normally. He reaches a tentative hand up to feel his throat where he’s sure dark purple and blue bruises are already starting to bloom. He pulls himself out of bed, and stares down at Bucky’s seemingly lifeless body. 

Back in Mullingar his mother would have been the first person he would have gone to. Now he’s not so sure. If Bucky really did just try to kill him, he can’t go and tell Winifred and Becca, they’re his family, and he’s sure their allegiance will remain firmly with Bucky. Accusing Bucky of such a crime, even with clear evidence, could still get him in trouble if the wrong person were to hear. 

Natasha, he realizes is the most logical choice. He’s not sure how close she really is to the Barnes family, but he trust her to support him over them. She can also defend both of them if Bucky were to try something like it again. 

He writes a quick notes on a slip of paper he rips from his sketchbook. He keeps the message vague, the only clear part, his request for her to come to his chambers immediately. He slips into the hallways to find a guard stationed outside who gives him a surprised look. 

Steve carefully wraps his robe so it covers his throat, “Would you please deliver this letter to Lady Natasha, it’s urgent. Wake her up if you have to.” 

The guard, whose young and probably not much older then him, looks like he’s going to question it before nodding his head enthusiastically, “Of course your majesty.” 

The guard practically sprints down the hallway, and Steve goes back into his chambers. He’s still hasn’t fully processed what just happened. That Bucky could have just killed him. Steve thought that Bucky cared for him, maybe even loved with him. . . that he would never hurt him.

He can’t get over the vacant look in Bucky’s eyes out of his mind. Something about all of this feels off, like there's something else behind Bucky’s actions. That it’s not as simple as Bucky trying to hurt him. 

There's a quick knock on the door and it opens before Steve can even get to it. Nastah’s wearing her pajamas, with a robe on, and a thick coat over that. Her hair looks wild, wrapped in curls all around her face. 

“Steve! What's going on? The guard said you needed something urgently!” He’s never seen Natasha as anything other than calm, and her panic catches him by surprise. He’s already shocked enough as it is. 

“B - b- bucky just tried to strangle me. He just came in here . . . and tried to strangle me.” Steve feels his panic running high. He wraps his arms around his body, forcing his breathes to go steady. 

“Where is he right now?” her voice is completely cold, and she’s takes on a stance he’s used to seeing her take on in ring. A stance that forces men twice her size to submit.

“In the bedroom,” Steve tells her, and she pushes past him, “Natasha I don’t get what’s going on… it was like he was somewhere else when he was doing it. Like he was just completely vacant.” 

Natasha nods, taking in what he just told her, “Did you put him out?” 

“I used my magic,” Steve feels strange about the fact that he used his magic on Bucky. He knows it was in self defense, but he also knows about Bucky’s experience with magic, how he didn’t  _ have _ a choice when people used it on him. 

“Which hand did he use to strangle you,” he’s not sure what she’s getting at, but he motions down to the metal one, “I know that you might not want to do this, but I think you should touch his metal hand. We need to know if there's any magic on it besides yours.” 

Steve knows she’s right, but he still feels fear grip his heart when he reaches down towards Bucky. He’s out like the dead, the spell he used will keep Bucky out for hours unless Steve intervienes. That still doesn’t stop his heart from pounding and his hands from shaking. 

At first, all he feels his is own magic, but then underneath all of it. . . there’s something else. There’s magic in Bucky’s arm. Magic placed by Zola, that both him, and Bucky, chose to ignore. It’s that magic, but stronger than Steve felt before, like it’s much closer to the surface. 

“There’s other magic,” Steve tells her drawing his hand back, “I’ve felt it before in his arm, but never that strong.” 

“I suspected as much,” Natasha says folding her arms over her chest, a determined look taking over her face, “I think we're going to have to wake him up.” 

Steve doesn't want to, but he knows it has to be done. He reaches down, sending a sharp bolt of magic through his hand.  _ Bucky’s eyes blink wide open.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you to everyone who left comments or kudos, really motivated me to keep writing. also thank you to low_key_nerdy for beta editing this!! as always updates at between one to two weeks time. 
> 
> up next: what the hell is going on with bucky?


	16. Chapter 16

Bucky wakes up with a start, small tremors running throughout his body. His eyes open with a start to both Steve and Natasha looking over at him. He’s laying down in his bed, jacket and boots still, on with his feet and hanging off the bed. 

He tries to sit up but his arms are throbbing in pain and so his head. He can’t remember how he got to bed, or his time with the commandos. He feels Cap press up against his side briefly as his eyelids slip closed again. 

“Barnes get up,” Natasha’s voice is sharp and he struggles to follow her demands. His vision swings in front of him and he tips forward. There's a hand on his shoulder, sharp fingers digging into his skin, keeping him upright. 

“Whats going on?” Bucky grabs at his head trying to gain some sense of clarity, “God my head hurts. What happened? I don’t remember coming in here.”

“You don’t remember,” Steve's voice sounds strange, and when he turns to look at him, he notices dark red marks around Steve's throat. They’re blotchy and it takes Bucky a minute to realise they’re finger shaped. 

“Who did that to you?” Bucky snaps, moving forward to get a better look at Steve, but Steve's flinches back moving to stand behind Natasha. 

“You did,” Natasha says, gaze completely cold, but underneath that, calculating, “You tried to strangle Steve. Do you remember that?”

Bucky’s mind whirls and his arm continues to throbb. He looks at Steve who's staring at him wide eyed, and all Bucky knows it that he’d never want to hurt Steve. He’d promised that he’d never hurt Steve, “I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t ever hurt you Steve. You know I wouldn’t.”

“I know you wouldn’t Buck,” Steve says quietly. He reaches forward but at the last second he recoils, “I think that someone used magic on you, to make you do it.”

Bucky takes a sharp intake of breath at Steve's words. He trusts Steve, he also trusts that if Steve thinks magic might have been used, then magic must have been used. Bucky runs a hand over the metal arm, cupping it in his his regular hand in an attempt to stop the throbbing pain. 

“Alright,” Bucky tries to keep his composer but he can’t think with all the pain, “I need to take one of my pills. My arm hurts too much, I can’t think without taking some pills.”

“What pills?” Steve asks as he follows Bucky, who stumbles his way into the bathroom, grabbing at the doorway for support. The pills are kept in a little jar in the cabinet under the sink, his hands shaking as he tries to spill some into his hand almost dropping them onto the floor. 

Natasha moves into the bathroom, “Who gave you those pills?”

“Zola,” Bucky tells her and with that she snatches the pills out of his hand. For a second he thinks she might throw them down the sink, but she puts them back into the jar, and places the jar in the pocket of her coat. 

“Don’t take those,” Steve’s voice is soft compared to Natasha’s harsh glares, “You can’t take anything that might interfere with the magic before we bring you to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“We have to go see S.H.I.E.L.D?” Bucky just wants to lay down, his head is swimming too much for anything to make sense. He hates S.H.I.E.L.D. Logically, he knows they should go, but right now, he just wants the pain to go away. 

Steve helps him move away from the counter he’s been leaning on for support. He sags in Steve’s arms, his head throbbing and his legs bending, “Come on stand up. Don’t make me drag you all the way there.”

Bucky feels something solid and heavy settle in his stomach as he looks at the red marks around Steve's neck. . . the marks  **_he_ ** put there, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Please Stevie you got to know - I don’t ever-”

Steve shushes him, “Bucky stop. I know you wouldn’t. Somebody made you do this. It’s not your fault. Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

The corridors are empty, only the occasional guard roaming the halls. Bucky tries his best to stand up straight while Steve flips his collar up every time someone gets too close. Natasha walks stiffly besides them, like she expects someone to jump out from a corridor and attack. 

There's a carriage already pulled out front with Natasha’s family crest on the side. Bucky doesn’t know if it's for the purpose of discretion (a royal carriage is far more noticeable and is bound to start rumours if seen on the streets this late at night) or simply was the first carriage they were able to get. Either way they slide into the carriage quickly, Bucky finds himself leaning against the carriage window, and Steve, for support. 

“James I need you to think very hard about the last thing you remember. I now your arm hurts, but I need you to recall the last thing that happened before we woke you up,” Natasha asks of him, leaning forward to give him a serious look. 

He’s sure his brow is furrowed with concentration but the last thing he remembers is being at the restaurant with the commandos, tucked between Dugan and Jones. He hadn’t been drinking more than usual, hardly more than a slight buzz, certainly not enough to warrant memory loss. 

“The last thing I can remember is being at the bar with the commandos,” Bucky tells her still trying to think back to any moments after that, but his mind comes up blank, “I can’t even remember how I got back to the castle, let alone to our rooms.” 

“We’ll have to ask them in the morning, see if they can recall anything more,” Natasha says leaning back into her seat across from him. 

Bucky nods in agreement closing his eyes against the minimal light which still makes his head pound, “We weren’t even drinking that much. Dugan was probably the most drunk out of all of us  but you know he can drink all night long and still keep his wits about him.” 

“Then hopefully they’ll remember something,” Steve says earnestly, squeezing Bucky’s hand which is tucked carefully in between his and Steve’s lap. Every time Bucky looks at him all he can see is the horrible marks around his throat. 

S.H.I.E.L.D isn’t far away, and the house is dark when they arrive. They all head towards the building anyways, Natasha knocking without a second thought. Steve looks absolutely freezing standing next to him, and for a brief second, he considers stripping off his coat and giving it to him, but the door opens before he can complete the action. 

He’s familiar with Phil Coulson. He looks slightly rumpled, but it still wearing clothes, and Bucky thinks that he might have fallen asleep at his desk. He knows who they are too of course, opening the door quickly and ushering them in without even asking why they’ve come. 

“Though I’m happy to see you all here, it is the middle of the night,” Coulson says as politely as possible. 

“We think someone might have used dark magic on Prince James,” Natasha says matter of factly, “He attacked Prince Steven earlier, and Steve found some traces of what could be dark magic within his metal arm.” 

“Attacked how?” Coulson questions, raising a single eyebrow and leading them from the entryway into a more formal sitting room. There's a low fire burning,Coulson adds a few more logs to it. There are lamps stationed across the room making the whole room seem bright, flickering with life. 

Steve carefully pulls the collar of his jacket down. Up until this point, Steve has kept a death grip on his collar, completely covering the vicious marks. Coulson pears of at them briefly, before motioning for Steve to pull his collar back up which he does quickly. Bucky sits down heavily on one of the couches watching the entire exchange. 

“I see,” Coulson says and Steve curls his way into the couch besides Bucky, “You're  lucky. One of our best, Jane, is here. She’s an expert in dark magic, and she’s done extensive research in dark magic. If anyone will be able to tell if it’s dark magic it’s her.” 

Coulson leaves the room only briefly to return with a short woman, with dark brown hair,who clearly was just woken up. She’s in her pajamas, a long nightgown, with a thick robe thrown over the entire thing. 

She gives them a half courtesy, she seems to lack the skill, grace, and the wakefulness to complete a formal courtesy. Jane is clearly embarrassed, and Bucky tries to give her the kindest smile he can muster. 

She settles down into a chair right in front of him, “Can you hold out your metal arm for me?” 

Bucky follows her directions quickly and she rolls up his sleeve so the cool metal reflects the light from the fire place. She presses small dainty hands lightly to his arm, one near the elbow, and the other close to his wrist. He feels the slight heat coming from them , but her touch is almost too light to sense anything. 

For a minute it appears nothing is happening, her eyes are closed tightly in concentration, but her grip remains loose. Slowly her hands begin to glow, first a light blue that remind him of the sky on a cool day before turning a deep purple. Her hands remained pressed to his arm until the colors fade away. 

He’s not entirely sure how long the entire process took, he had gone into some sort of a daze while it was happening, but it must have been longer then it seemed. Steve’s sitting besides him looking anxious, and Natasha's stripped out of her coat resting in a chair. 

“Well?” Steve questions expectedly, sitting up on his knees and leaning over to get a good look at Bucky’s arm as if he expects to it change. It’s still the same silver metal as it’s always been. 

“It’s seemed your suspicions were correct, I sensed traces of dark magic throughout Princes James’ arm,” Jane informs them, she’s flipping through a heavy book sitting her her lap, “Though I’m not entirely sure what kind of spell it is, that’ll take many hours of observation and study, it’s certainly not a new spell at all. It’s possibly been  _ renewed _ recently, but I don’t think it was  _ cast _ recently.” 

“Then why tonight? If it’s been on there for so long why did it just happen tonight? Shouldn't I have been suffering side effects for much longer?” Bucky questions. He hardly knows anything about regular magic, let alone dark magic, his knowledge extending as far as it’s current illegal status. 

Jane nods along with his questions, “My guess is that there are triggers. It could be anything. Whether it be a specific smell or carefully crafted words. Can you think of any time this has happened before?” 

“I’ve never hurt Steve before,” Bucky says earnestly. He doesn't want her to think he’s some monster who goes around hurting people all the time. Bucky has never been violent, he hated fighting during the revolution in the north. He would never want to enact violence on purpose. 

“That's not what she’s asking,” Steve murmurs, soothingly curling their hand together, “Maybe your arm? I know you said it hurts, and Zola gave you pills to take for it, but does it ever hurt as bad as it does right now?” 

His arm hurts all the time, but he does his best to recall back to a time when the pain had been as intense as it is now, so much pain that he’s dizzy.

“Our wedding day. I’d woken up and my arm had hurt so bad I could barely think. It’s happened a few times before, but never as bad as that or this.” Bucky thinks back to their wedding day when the pills had failed him, and he’d drank himself sick to overcome all the pain. 

“That could be something,” Jane mumbles to herself, flipping through the large book quickly before settling on a certain page, “What about memory loss? Have you suffered from that recently?” 

“Yes,” Bucky feels a giant knot in his throat as he speaks, “I can’t remember hurting Steve. I can’t even remember making it back to our chambers. It’s like a giant gap in my memory.” 

Jane bites her lip and desperately looks like she wants to say something. She turns to Coulson who gives her a knowing glance before she speaks to Bucky, “I won’t know what kind of spell it is until I’ve conducted more research on it. I don’t suppose you could come back tomorrow?” 

Bucky was supposed to attend a council meeting with his father, but he imagines he can come with a decent excuse. He certainly can’t tell his father what's going on until he has some actual evidence to back himself up, his father would think he’s lost his mind. 

“Perhaps it would be best if we meet in a more neutral location. Somewhere a little more discreet” Bucky suggests  looking to Natasha and Steve for back up. Bucky’s not sure how good it would be for him to be seen coming to sheild so many times with such little time in between. 

“You can meet at my house, it’s farther outside the city, and there are fewer people who could see,” Natasha suggests. He can only recall going to Natasha’s house once. It’s the official house of the diplomatic representative of  Oria . It’s a well sized house, far enough from the city to have areas filled with trees and grass around it. 

They all nod in agreement at the chosen location, “I hope you understand that it would be best if you didn’t mention this to anyone else,” Steve says cautiously. 

“Of course,” Phil says seemingly without even a second thought, “I have some salve for you neck, mixed by our very own healers. It doesn't get rid of it immediately, but those marks are going to be difficult to cover up without some treatment.” 

“Thank you,” Steve says earnestly fingers drifting up to rub at his neck gently, self conscious about the marks. Bucky leans his shoulder against Steve’s, hoping to provide some comfort. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he gave them to Steve, even if it was unconsciously.

They stand up, and Phil leads them to the door.  Jane gives the salve to Steve in a nondescript jar. Bucky watches Steve tucks the jar into his pocket, as they walk back to the carriage, with a long ride back to the castle. 

 

***

 

Steve and Bucky meet Jane at Natasha’s house in the morning. Nothing comes of it except for Jane’z promise to dig deeper. Bucky can tell that she has a number of ideas regarding what spell it was and who did it. 

Bucky next stop is Dugan, hoping he can fill in the blanks between the bar and waking up in his bedroom. He thinks that might be the key to figuring out why he hurt Steve. Bucky still can’t believe that he did that to Steve, that if Steve hadn’t stopped him he would have killed him. 

Dugan has a nice house in the city. He made his quite a lot of money through a successful business that was passed down to him from his grandfather. It’s in one of the nicest areas of the city, the neighborhoods old, generations of families passing down the houses to one another.

He opens the door as soon as Bucky knocks, letting him into the house. He messaged earlier that he’d be coming over in the afternoon, but he kept the reasoning behind the visit to himself. 

“You said you wanted to talk about something,” Dugan says leading them to his living room. Dugan isn’t married, and Bucky often wonders if the house feels too big for just one person. 

“It’s about something that happened last night,” Bucky tells him, dropping like a stone on the couch, “I can’t remember what happened last night. I can’t even remember leaving the bar with you guys.” 

Dugan shoots him a confused look, “That’s probably because you didn’t leave with us. Rumlow came in at some point. . .convinced you to go off and play card with him and Rollins.” 

“I don’t remember that,” Bucky mumbles. He hates Brock and Jack, and he can’t beleive he went off with them. He didn’t think he was drunk enough to actually go off with them, he usually only does once he’s hit rock bottom, “I don’t think I was that drunk. I mean I didn't even drink that much.” 

“You weren’t. I mean Jones drank more than you, and I already saw him bright and early this morning,” Dugan comments. “Did something happen last night? Did Brock and Rollins do something?” 

‘“I don’t know. I can’t remember anything,” Bucky confesses. On the ride over,  he debated whether or not he wanted to tell Dugan what he did, but he figured he had to be honest. “I hurt Steve last night. I hurt him, and I don’t even remember doing it.” 

  Dugan looks horrified. Bucky can’t even look him in the eye, he’s disgusted with himself. He put his head in his hands trying to block it all out. He feels like even more of a monster. He finally feels like he deserves the horrible metal that is his arm. 

He feels the couch dip as Dugan sits down beside him, “There's more to it then just that isn’t there? I know, that no matter what happens, you’d never hurt Steve. Even on your wedding night, when you were so drunk you could barely walk and didn’t know Steve, you didn’t hurt him one bit.” 

“Steve thinks someone used dark magic on me so we went to  S.H.I.E.L.D and they confirmed it. They don’t know what kind of spell, or who put it on me, but the arm showed signs of dark magic.” 

“God Barnes, you can’t possibly blame yourself for what happened to Steve. If someone used dark magic, then you have to know it wasn’t your fault. You’ve got to know it wasn’t your fault,” Dugan insisted while rubbing a comforting hand on his back. 

They’ve had this conversation before. Bucky’s always blamed himself for getting them captured by hydra. He was suppose to be paying attention, supposed to be on lookout. . . make sure nothing happened. Bucky had been the one the hydra mages spotted, and he’d been the one that had gotten them captured. 

“I feel like shit everytime I look at him,” Bucky admits, the guilt and shame making him nauseous, “I choked him.  _ Strangled _ him with the metal arm. There are mark all over his throat. Everytime I look at them all I can think is how bad I hurt him.” 

“You know he doesn’t blame you for any of it, and he’d hate to see you tearing yourself up about it,” Bucky knows he’s right, but that doesn’t change the fact that he feels horrible about what he did. 

“Go home. Kiss your husband. Tell him you love him,” Bucky’s used to Dugan's pep talks, “Don’t tear yourself up about something you can’t control. We’re going to figure everything out. I promise.”

“Thanks Dugan.” For years, Dugan's been there for him, especially after hydra, but even with their history, he doesn’t always listen to him. Even though he logically knows Dugan's right , that doesn’t stop him from thinking he’s a monster. 

 

***

 

When he gets back to his room Steve’s there, sitting in front of his amour, carefully applying the cream to his neck. The bruises look even worse than they had that morning, purple and yellow wrapping in a complete circle around his throat. 

Steve must spot his image in the mirror because he turns and gives Bucky a gentle smile. Bucky sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, watching as Steve closes the jar and slowly approach him. 

“What did Dugan say?” Steve asks though not before pressing a careful kiss to his forehead. Steve hasn’t left their room since they got back from Natasha’s, and even then he’d worn a jacket with the collar up to his chin. Even with makeup, Steve's still too concerned that somebody would notice. 

“He said the last time he saw me that night I was leaving with Brock,” Bucky tells him. 

A stormy look comes over Steve's face at his words, “I should have know he’d be involved in this somehow. I felt dark magic on him that night at the party.  _ That no good son of a bitch _ .” 

Steve says the whole thing with so much conviction that Bucky can’t help but smile. He touches Steve tentatively, bracing his hand around his waist, waiting for him to pull back. Steve doesn't, placing more of his weight in Bucky’s arms. 

“We don’t know it was him Stevie. It could just be a coincidence,” Bucky doesn’t want to believe that someone he interacts with, almost every day, could have done this to him even, if all the evidence points in that direction. 

“I’ll prove it was him then,” Steve says with a very serious look, “He doesn't get to hurt us and just get away with it.” 

Bucky tries to put all the love he feels into a kiss, pressing their bodies together. He loves Steve so much it hurts sometimes. Bucky just wants for Steve to be safe and happy every second of every day.

Steve sighs as Bucky pulls away, “Please don’t blame yourself, Buck. I don't blame you. I know it wasn’t you that hurt me.” 

“I love you doll,” Bucky mumbles pressing his face against the bond mark and Steve’s collarbone, “I love you so much. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” 

It’s the first time either one of them has said it to each other. It’s been resting there, right below the surface. Bucky has certainly wanted to say it. He was never sure what time was the right time, and if Steve would want to hear it. 

“I love you to Buck,” Steve’s smile is gentle,and Bucky’s surprised when he finds Steve crawling up into his lap. They kiss lightly, Bucky rubbing slowly up Steve’s back in an attempt to both touch him, and keep him from falling out of his lap. The fingers in his hair are nice, grounding him, and he lets himself get a little loss in the feeling. 

“Everything's going to be okay, isn’t it Buck?” Steve asks pressing their foreheads together. He can feel steve’s warm breath against his face, and their noses bump together awkwardly. 

Bucky doesn't know the answer to that question, he cups the back of Steve’s head and pulls him down for an easy kiss. When he pulls away they're both breathless, “It’s going to be okay. And even if it’s not, we're going to figure it out. . . together.” 

Steve seals that promise with a kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this chapter! thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter. sorry for the long gap between updates, both me and my beta editor have been super busy. i think the next chapter should be posted sooner! 
> 
> up next: more drama to come!


	17. Chapter 17

Steve wants to shout at the top of his lungs that he has more important things to do than plan a party. 

He doesn’t do that of course, though if he did, someone would just tell him it’s his role as an omega to plan parties and host guests. Steve certainly has more pressing things to think about, none of which consist of picking colored napkins and the appropriate order of dances. 

The problem is, he can’t tell anyone that he has more important things to do because that would mean telling them what happened to Bucky. They’ve already decided, that for now, it’s on a need to know basis which means he can’t actually shout it at everyone who tries to make him focus on planning a  **_party_ ** . 

It’s the spring festival, every city in Yoshkar will be holding fairs and parades in honor of the beginning of spring, but the royal family has to hold their own large celebration (because of another tradition he has never heard of) with lavish decorations and interesting food. It hardly feels like spring.It’s still cold, and the earth still looks dead, flowers nowhere to be seen.

Winifred has enlisted both his and Becca’s help with organizing everything, but she pays special attention to Steve. He can tell that she’s trying to train him for the day her job will be his, just like his mother used to do. 

He helps her organize everything, from who's sitting next to who, to what kind of clothes everyone in the family will be wearing. At another time, without so much consuming his mind, he would have given practical advice at the least, but it all seems menial. . . completely unimportant in the grand scheme of things. 

He tried to enlist his house to take control of some of the decisions, but Natasha was too busy worrying about the same things as him, Tony showed little interest or care, Peter didn’t know enough to make any decisions, so the job mostly fell to Wanda’s shoulders. Winifred urged him to add new members to his house, but he found he didn’t even have time to spend cultivating a good enough relationship with any of the candidates to give them that role. 

The marks on his neck have almost faded completely. With the careful use of the lotion Coulson had given him, and careful use of cosmetics, any remaining marks are easily covered. His throat still aches, he’s not sure if it’s from internal bruising or phantom pain Steve’s not sure.

He’s glad the marks are gone, not just because they were difficult to cover up and hurt, but because of the way Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. It was obvious that Bucky saw them as a clear reminder that he had hurt Steve, even if they both knew what he did wasn’t his fault. 

Steve feels like he’s tried to do everything possible to convince Bucky that he doesn't blame him. There's no reason for him to. Someone used dark magic on him, which is terrifying, especially based on what he knows about Bucky’s past relation with magic. That didn’t stop Bucky from blaming himself. 

Winifred is explaining something, and Steve tried to listen, but he finds his mind drifting off. He can barely keep up with her and Becca, who's used to her mother's antics, looks out of wind. 

“Steve, darling, are you feeling alright? You look a little tired,” Winifred asks giving him a concerned look. 

Steve tries to shake himself out of his stupor, “I’m doing fine. I’m sorry, I’m listening.”

Winifred acts as though she hadn’t heard him, pressing a hand to his forehead to check for a fever. She makes a low humming noise in the back of her throat, “I don’t think you have a fever, but you’re looking a little pale. You need to go lay down for awhile.”

“Really Winifred I’m-”

She cuts him off before he can finish, “Stop right there. You’re  _ going  _ to bed Steven. I will not allow you to get sick if I can do something about it.”

He’s learned better than to argue with her and does as she says. He’ll take any excuse to get away from all the planning, and it's easy to see the appeal of a nice long afternoon nap. He hasn’t been sleeping well recently, and he could use the rest. 

Back in his room, Steve grabs a book before climbing into bed, with every intention of reading. However, Steve finds himself easily drifting in and out of sleep, book abandoned besides him in bed. 

He’s awaken by the feeling of the covers shifting around him and movement on the bed. He opens his eyes, but they’re so blurry he can’t see anything. Steve gropes around until his hand eventually connects with warm skin. 

“Ahh!” Steve screeches (a sound he is not proud of) snatching his hand back in a flash,  rubbing the blurriness from his vision. His more jumpy than normal, especially when getting woken up while sleeping. 

“Stevie it’s fine it’s just me,” Bucky’s warm hand is on his shoulder, head looming over him on the bed, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that, I understand why that would be so … upsetting.” 

The shame is clear on Bucky’s face, but atleast he doesn't pull away from Steve, instead he presses even closer to him.  Steve nuzzles his way against Bucky’s scent glands, enjoying the relaxing feeling that falls upon him. 

“Ma said you weren’t feeling good,” Bucky murmurs while curling his fingers gently through Steve’s hair. It’s pleasant, soothing even, and he could easily find himself drifting off like this. 

“She decided I wasn’t feeling good,” Steve grumbles, listening to the huff of laughter Bucky lets out, “I’m just feeling a little tired, that's all.” 

Bucky pulls back slightly and Steve can see the concern written all of his face, “Are you sure that's all? You're not getting sick again are you? I can’t have you fainting on me again.” 

“I’m fine Buck,” Steve promises, laying back down, doing his best to tug Bucky down with him so they can curl up under the blankets together, “Come on lay down. I always sleep better when you're here.”

Bucky looks troubled for a moment, as though he’s debating in his own head whether or not he  _ actually _ can afford to have an afternoon nap with Steve, before finally agreeing. He lays on his back, so Steve’s can curl in under his chin, before wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him in close. 

He’s sure Bucky’s able to smell how content he feels, and Steve can only hope, that for a few hours, he can put aside their troubles, hide the unsettling thoughts of dark magic in a forgotten corner of his mind . It’s a naive hope, and oh so dangerous, but Steve hopes, for just a little while, he can pretend everything's okay. 

A gentle hand is running up his back and under his sleep shirt in soothing movements, and he feels Bucky shift slightly, “Do think it’s possible that you could be pregnant?” 

Steve slides sideways, moving away from Bucky just enough so that their heads lay side by side on the pillow, and he can view his concerned expression, “We were very careful, even through my heat. I would be very surprised if I was.” 

Now that the idea has been presented he feels very nervous. He knows the teas aren’t guarantee, but are simply the easiest way to prevent pregnancy. They’ve been consistent about taking it. . . although the memory of his heat is fuzzy at best, and it’s a possibility that he didn’t take it in time. 

“We can get Dr. Banner to look you over. He’ll keep everything very quiet,” Bucky proposes and Steve nods. He doesn't want rumours spreading especially if there's nothing there for it’ll only lead to frustration. 

“Alright, I’ll send for him after the nap,” Steve promises curling his way back against Bucky. He doesn't think he’s pregnant though he can’t say that feeling is any more that his mother hen omega intuition. It would be best to speak to a doctor so not to have what if’s resting in front of him. 

The knowledge that they’ll need to start trying for a child, and soon, is still looming over their heads like an anvil, and the weight keeps piling on. Though the idea of having children has become less terrifying, he still feels unready,and he's beginning to wonder if he will always feel this uneasy. 

 

***

 

Steve gets an unexpected invitation, from Peggy Carter, to have dinner. It’s unexpected, not because they aren't friends, but because he hadn’t known Peggy was back from Telford. She’s promised to be back before the spring festival, but he’d thought better than to hold her to that. 

He’s not sure what to think about their friendship, he feels as though there had been a slight rift between them before she left, but he could be imagining things. Steve’s hoping that some time apart has made things better, and they can restore their friendship to it’s previous state. 

Signing his name, he finishes his letter to his mother, and leaves it on the mail tray for the maid to pick up. He dresses quickly, still wearing his sleep clothes from his afternoon nap. Bucky had left, when he was still asleep, to attend a meeting with a few of the diplomats from the Western province over fish trade, which even Steve had to admit, sounded terribly dull.

He dresses in simpler clothing, there's no reason to wear something ornate because it’s only him and Peggy. The light blue tunic and black leggings are flattering, but the large overcoat he throws on before heading to the carriage, is not, and makes him look as round as a cake. 

They’ve planned to meet at Peggy’s residence within the city, it’s the official house for the representative of Telford, therefore, it’ s in one of the cleanest areas of the city, and is quite large. It’s an older house, decorated simply and sophisticatedly, a style only Peggy herself could pull of.

He’s been to her house twice before. Usually it was more convenient to meet at the castle, but she had invited him over, and it seemed rude to suggest they meet in the castle after Peggy had traveled so far to get back to Yoshkar. 

Peggy greets him at the door, looking tired, but still far more elegant than anyone has a right to. She’s dressed nicely, and Steve feels messy as he stripps off his coat to reveal casual clothing. Sometimes he forgets how different dress is in Yoshkar than in Mullingar, even casual dress is expected to be intricate and elegant. 

She wraps him up in a quick hug and presses a kiss to both cheeks, as is the standard greeting in Telford, “I’m so pleased we could have dinner tonight, with such a last minute arrangement. I was afraid we’d have to wait until the spring festival before meeting again.” 

The spring festival isn’t for another few weeks, and Steve agrees that it would have been unfortunate if they had not spoken before then, “I’m so happy to see you though I’m afraid our night’s going to be cut early, I have a appointment with Dr. Banner this evening.” 

Peggy sets him with a worried expression, “Dr. banner? I hope you're not feeling sick, are you?” 

“No I’m fine, just a standard appointment,” he’s not sure why he doesn’t tell her about his possible pregnancy. If it was Natasha,Peter, or possibly Tony, he’d probably unload his concerns onto them, but for some reason, he finds himself unable to share his concerns. 

“I’m glad,” a bright smile gracing her face, clasping his hand in hers, “Dinner should be served in a few minutes.” 

They sit in her private dinning room, with a much smaller table more suitable for two people. It’s a pleasant room, and feels much more intimate than a larger room. 

“How was your journey back?” Steve asks as the food gets set down in front of them. It’s a classic meal from the Vale involving a small meat dish, some vegetables, and a large amount of potatoes. He wants to shovel it into his mouth as fast as humanly possible, and is starting to really question whether or not he’s pregnant. 

“Good, took longer then i would have liked, but that's bound to happen when traveling in the winter time,” Peggy remarks, as she fills both of their plates up with food, and the starts to dig in. 

They chat about her trip while eating, she tells him about everything's going in the Vale. Though him and his mother write letters often, he’s positive she keeps information from him, keep him from worrying. Peggy’s much more blunt about the state of the Vale, and the concerns they have. 

As always, it's nice to talk with someone who's from somewhere as similar as Mullingar, someone who doesn't make him feel out of place when he forgets Yoshkar customs or culture. Plus, he’s very much enjoying eating a classic Vale recipe for once. 

He checks the clock as a maid brings an after dinner cup of tea, “I'm afraid I’m going to have to be leaving sooner than I would like. I don’t want to keep Dr. Banner waiting.” 

“Of course,” Peggy’s staring down intently at her tea, “There's something I would like to discuss first.” 

“Alright,” he expected she’d want to talk about him trying to win diplomatic representative of Mullingar, being that they haven’t discussed it yet. As one of the more powerful diplomats from the Vale, it would be a good conversation to have with her. 

The words that came out of her mouth were not what he expected. . .  **at all** , “I’m sure you’ve already started to guess this, but Steve I’m in love with you.” 

He can’t even begin to hide his shock, eyes wide and mouth opened in an ‘O’ shape. Out of all the things she could have said that wasn’t what he was expecting, not even a little. It feels like it came out of nowhere. 

“I don't know what to says Peggy, but I wasn’t expecting it at all,” Steve confesses, the shock finally beginning to recede. 

“I’d thought it was rather obvious,” she’s looking straight at him, but the awkwardness hangs heavy, and thick, in the space between them, “I thought that it would go away if i stopped seeing you as much, went away for a while, but the feelings are still there. I know this is too much for me to say, but I was hoping there was some possibility you’d feel the same way.” 

“Oh Peggy,” the words come out in one long breath, “I don’t really know what to say, but I’m in love with Bucky.” 

She flinched away from him and turned away, “This happened while i was gone?” 

“Yes,” something very deep in his chest hurts, “I’m so sorry Peggy. Really I am. I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t say anything,” she gives him smile, a plastic one, it doesn't reach her eyes, “I’m glad that you and Bucky are happy together. I worried that you never would be.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, quiet and unsure, what else is there to say? He loves Bucky, more than he ever thought could be possible. And only now, when approached by the idea, he realises he could never leave him. 

Peggy’s still not meeting his gaze. “I imagine you're going to tell Bucky.”

He hadn’t thought about it before, mostly because he was still too shocked to think about much else, but now he imagines that he will. Steve could not, and cannot, keep this very well guarded secret, it would feel like lying about something important. Steve’s also struck with the notion that if this is happening the opposite way, Bucky would tell him. 

“I’m not sure,” Steve says, hoping to spare her feelings. He’s already made up his mind. 

Peggy gives him a knowing smile, “He’s already suspicious. When you caught the fever, he approcatioted me on the subject.” 

“He never told me that.” He wonders why because a more jealous alpha would have certainly forbade Steve from seeing her. When he’d told Bucky he was going to meet Peggy, he’d barely had a reaction, simply wishing him a good time. 

Peggy gives him a tight smile, “I’m hoping we can still remains friends after this.”

“Of course we can,” he gives her hand a tight squeeze. It’s clear she’s trying to hold herself together, and keep to much emotion as possible from seeping through, and Steve can tell it’s best if he leaves. Steve still feels a little stunned by her admission even has he climbs back into the carriage. 

He feels overwhelmed, and lost. He’s curious both how, and why, though he doesn't think he could ever ask that. Steve can’t also help to feel a little concerned, The fact that Peggy thought it was even a possibility, that her confession would lead to him leaving Bucky to be with her is irrational, even if he didn’t love Bucky. Their marriage, while a happy one, is a peace treaty. . . one that can never be broken. 

It weighs too much for Steve to keep it a secret and he’s already made up his mind to tell Bucky. He practically burst into their chambers, words almost spilling out of his mouth, when he sees not just Bucky but also Dr. Banner sitting and waiting for him. It’s only then that he realises he completely forgot about his appointment and is very late. 

“Steve you're finally here,” Bucky scolding him slightly, “you’ve kept dr. banner waiting.”

Steve begins to apologize but Dr. Banner waves him off, “Don’t worry yourself about. How about we begin the examination? It shouldn’t take any time at all.”

Dr. Banner hands him a glass of something, that smells absolutely terrible, but he drinks it. They head into the bedroom so Steve can lay down on the bed with Bucky sitting up besides him. Dr. banner helps him roll up his tunic, just enough to reveal his stomach, before he gently presses his hands against the bare skin. 

His touch is light at first, but he begins to press down with a little more force though not enough to be uncomfortable. Steve can feel the small waves of magic running through him from Dr. Banner as his own magic moves through him to greet it. It’s overall a strange feeling and Steve ready for it all to be done. 

The magic disappears as Dr. Banner lifts his hands up and motions for Steve to roll his shirt back down, “Well you're not pregnant, however,  based on how fertile you are, even with the tea you're drinking, I wouldn’t be surprised if you fell pregnant soon.”

“Why is my fertility rate so high?” Steve asks, genuinely surprised. Besides the fact that he’s young, he didn’t know there could be another trigger for high fertility. He’s also had his fertility levels tested before, and they’ve had been slightly above average, which was a surprise considering his mother only had one child. 

Dr. Banner nods, “Your fertility rate will continue to rise until after your first couple of children, and then will lower dramatically after that. A lingering prehistoric trait, it allowed for easy reproduction, therefore easy pregnancy. It’s really quite common and nothing to be concerned about.” 

“But it’ll start over riding the tea soon? I thought the tea would work no matter what?” Bucky asks, giving Dr. banner a questioning look. Steve knows the efficiency of the tea will start to wane the longer he uses it, which is fine, but he didn’t think that it was possible to have one's fertility too strong for the tea. 

“James told me you’ve been feeling tired.” Steve nods his head in agreement, “A reason for that could be that your natural fertility is battling with the tea, which is trying to lower it. This can use a lot of your body’s energy,l and could be a reason for why you're feeling extra tired.”

Steve realises he knows nothing about fertility, it wasn’t something they ever talked about back in Mullingar. His mother rarely, if ever mentioned, pregnancy and, if she did, only ever in passing. Sex of course was a forbidden subject, and only now, Steve realizes how his lack of education could effect him. 

“Should i stop drinking the tea?” Steve sits up slightly, the drink Dr. Banner gave him is making his stomach cramp uncomfortably. 

“I doubt it will work anyways, and it’s probably doing more harm the good,” Dr. Banner says. “It will probably only hurt you or the baby when you are pregnant.”

Steve feels at a loss for words. Everything he’s learned tonight is leaving him in a state of shock. Bucky seems to understand that Steve's stunned by all that he’s learned and says goodbye on both of their behalfs. Bucky tugs Steve to edge of the bed, and he goes willingly as Bucky kneels down in front of him. 

“Are you okay? I know this is all kind of a surprise, but we knew you were going to have to stop taking the tea soon anyways,” Bucky looks concerned with a wrinkle setting in between his eyebrows. 

Steve lets out a shuddering breath, “I have to tell you something.”

Bucky’s furrowed brow becomes even more intense, “Did something bad happen? Did something happen to your Ma?”

“No, no nothing like that,” Steve reassures. “When I was at Peggy’s house she told me that's she’s in love with me.”

His eyes go wide in surprise and then to frighteningly blank, “What do you mean she said she’s in love with you?”

Steve’s not sure what kind of reaction he expected from Bucky, but this definitely wasn't it, “She just came out and said it, then asked if there was any possibility I felt the same way. I said no because I’m in love with you.” 

“I can’t believe she said that to you!” Bucky’s not as angry as he thought he’d be, but Steve can feel it radiating through their bond, “I can’t believe she’d do this. I warned her against it, against hurting you, obviously she didn’t listen.”

Bucky’s standing up now. But he still has Steve hands gripped tightly in his, and Steve doesn’t ever plan on letting go. “I didn’t even know. I didn’t have a clue, not until she said something.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” Bucky tells him as if sensing Steve needed to hear it, “I’m mad that she put you in this position. She’s your friend, and she should have known better.”

“You know I can’t just stop talking to her. Peggy’s still my friend, and I need her if I ever want to become the representative of Mullingar.” He’s a little worried Bucky will tell him not to speak to Peggy again, not that Steve would listen, just that it wouldn’t be out of line for expected alpha behavior. 

Bucky sighs and some tension seems to leak from his shoulders, “I’m not going to keep you from seeing her, I know some people think that's an alpha’s right, but I don’t. You're allowed to talk with whomever you want to, but I can’t pretend that I like it.” 

Steve thinks that if it was the other way around he wouldn’t like it either, so he understands. Jealousy is one of the most uncontrollable emotions, especially when it’s mixed with anger, and Steve can’t blame him for not being able to control it. Steve’s his omega which means Bucky has every right to be possessive of him. 

“Are you unhappy that I’m not pregnant,” Bucky still looks visibly upset, and Steve’s starting to wonder if it’s from more than what Peggy said. Bucky’s older than him, and has had more time to get used to the idea of having a child. Plus he’s not the one who’ll have to carry it or push it out. 

“I don’t know,” Bucky says after a long moment of consideration, “Maybe a little. I want to have a baby, but i’m not upset about waiting either. I was excited about the idea of it though.” 

“So if I wanted to stop taking the tea you’d be okay with that?” Steve’s looks up at Bucky, who’s biting his lip absentmindedly. 

He never wants to do anything that could hurt their future pup. Steve was so sick as a child and he’s worried that could be passed on. He feels exhausted too, and he’s ready to not feel so tired all the time and if not drinking the tea can stop it, then that's what he wants. 

“I’d be very okay with that. It would make me very happy,” Bucky confesses. He looks much more calm, no longer looking  like he wants to run his sword through something or someone. 

As long as he’s been an omega, he’s known one day his job would be to have a child, several if possible. The idea of it seems less terrible than it once did, but he’s still frightened by all the things that could happen. 

Steve’s tugs Bucky down just enough to give him a quick kiss, “I love you.” 

The words still fills him with a lightness, like he could just float up into the sky. Bucky gives him a wide smile looking very pleased about everything. 

“I love you too. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as I love you,” Bucky’s words were quiet, like a secret he was never meant to share. 

 

***

 

They meet with Jane again at Natasha’s house. She called for an impromptu meeting, and Bucky incredibly twitchy and nervous. Steve can feel his own nerves building up even though he’s excited by the prospect that she might have found something helpful. 

Jane arrives after them, carrying more books than someone as small as her should. She gives them a curtsey, almost tipping over, before carefully setting the books on the table. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she’s slightly out of breath, her chest heaving, “I misplaced one of the books at the last minute and had to go search for it.” 

“It’s no problem at all,” Steve reassures. Bucky begins to tap against the side of the couch their sitting on, unkempt nervous energy bubbling over. Steve wants to reach over and stop his movements. 

“What have you found out?” Bucky asks. His anxiety about the situation is clear to Steve, even if they weren’t bonded. 

Jane drags one of the books forward and begins flipping through it with earnest. It looks old from what Steve can tell, and the edges have been burned Most old books around magic have sustained some damage, and those that haven’t cost more than a fortune. Inscribed on the front of the book, in faded lettering,  _ Henri Petrov: Guide to Dark Magic _ . 

“It’s really hard to find books on dark magic since most of them have either been black listed ,or are in people's private collections,” Jane says handing the book over to them, “It’s called a  medytacja spell in the old language, or a willfulness spell. Basically, it allows one to use coded words in order to channel the will of one person onto another.” 

Steve’s reads through the description of the spell quickly but it doesn’t provide much more information than Jane just gave them. Like many of the existing books about black magic it doesn't provide any information on how to create, undo, or prevent anyone from using the spell. All the book contains is basic information about the spell. 

“So is there any information about a possible cure,” Bucky asks. His lack of knowledge about magic means he doesn't understand that it’s a miracle Jane stumbled upon the name of the spell, finding a cure damn near impossible. 

“There’s been no sign of one yet, but I still have faith one may be found,” Jane’s hopefulness is inspiring, if not slightly delusional, “The spell is activated by trigger words. I think the spell will lose it’s effect, if we can rid Prince James of the trigger words.” 

“The only issue is we don’t know who posses the trigger words or what they are,” Steve states before carefully handing the book back to her. 

“Unfortunately we don’t know yet,” Jane's voice suddenly takes on a hushed tone as she leans closer, “I know you mentioned Lord Rumlow as a possible suspect, and I beleive SHIELD has opened a secret investigation into his use of magic. If he is questioned, then I’m certain shield will ask him about a medytacja spell.” 

Steve wishes they knew more, but he’s happy they even got as much as they did. It couldn’t have been easy work for Jane to find this book, probably spent days searching the extensive archives SHIELD posses. 

“Thank you,” Steve hopes his voice conveys how truly grateful he is, “This is more than we could have ever found on our own.” 

Her cheeks flush slightly under his compliment, “It’s been an honor. I will continue to look and find more.” 

Bucky helps Jane gather her books while giving his thanks. Steve can feel that his anxiety has lowered slightly but is still present. Steve wishes he had a way to calm it. 

Back in the carriage Bucky lets out a disappointed sigh, “I was hoping she would have discovered more.” 

“It’s a start,” Steve gives Bucky’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for everyone who left comments and kudos on the this story. my goal is to be done with this by the end of september but not sure i that will actually happen. 
> 
> up next: Steve's plans finally come together


	18. Chapter 18

Bucky wakes up with the sun, stretching his limbs out across the bed. His hand bumps into Steve, who’s curled in a tight ball with Cap pressed up against his side. Steve usually falls asleep pressed close to Bucky, but he has a habit of shifting away, taking all the covers with him. 

He watches as Steve rolls over, eyes blinking slowly still half asleep. Bucky curls his fingers through the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. Usually Steve would have drifted off to sleep again, but he still looks mostly awake regarding Bucky from across the pillow. 

“Hey doll,” Bucky finds his voice still gravelly from sleep, “You could go back to sleep, it’s still early.” 

Steve moves across the bed until their pressed close together and gives Bucky an easy kiss. They’re still naked from the night before with the heavy blankets on top of them to keep in the heat. Bucky is looking forward to summer, where sleeping naked will be more comfortable than any other way. 

“I’m not sleepy at all.” It’s clearly a lie, but Bucky’s more than happy to indulge him. Running careful hands up Steve’s back -- he’s always struck by how soft the skin is there. He curles their bodies close togther, pressing every inch of himself against Steve. 

Steve grins up at him, “Your hair looks stupid sticking up like that.” 

“Thats rude,” Bucky mumbles trying to flatten his hair. By the way Steve’s laughing he can tell that it’s not helping, but based off the hard on pressing against his thigh, it isn’t a turn off. Bucky wonders if he should point out that Steve always has the worst bed hair ever. 

“Well I don’t want your ego to get  _ too  _ big, can’t let how handsome you are get to your head,” Steve says between slow easy kisses. Laying like it's easy to forget about the world outside, that no else exist except themselves. 

Bucky’s pleased by the fact that Steve just called him handsome. It’s not like he didn’t know that Steve finds him attractive, but it’s always nice to hear it. Ever since he lost his arm, his confidence in his looks has wavered, something he’d never had much of an issue with before. Steve never once showed any signs that the metal arm bothered him, nor the scars that littered his shoulder, chest, and back. 

Steve lets out a loud yawn, trying to cover it quickly with his hand, but Bucky catches him and lets out a snort of laughter, “I thought you said you weren’t tired at all?” 

“I’m not,” Steve whines dramatically, “It’s just so early! I don’t know how you can wake up at this time and not be tired all the time.” 

“Well I suppose we can’t all just laze around in bed all day,” Bucky teases. 

Steve doesn’t look nearly as amused as Bucky, instead pushing him back slightly so he can struggle to sit up against the headboard. There's a deep frown on his face, and the full force of his glare is pointed directly at Bucky, arms coming up to fold over his chest, “Is that really what you think I do all day? Just lay around in bed?” 

“No, of course not,” Bucky says quickly realizing his mistake. He didn’t think it would be something Steve would be sensitive about and only meant it as a joke. Bucky’s well aware of all the work Steve does, not just training with his mother to take over her role and practicing magic, but also working to become to representative of Mullingar. 

“Alpha’s always think just because omega’s aren’t doing what they're doing then we're doing  _ nothing.  _ As if we just sit around all day and gossip,” Steve grumbles still giving Bucky a harsh look, unimpressed with his attempt to cover up his blunder. 

Sometimes he forgets how much easier things are for him as an alpha, people listen to him right away, and he hardly ever has to worry about not being taken seriously. Steve, on the other hand, constantly has to prove himself, he has to be better than an alpha, not just as as good. 

“I know you don’t just sit around and gossip Stevie. You’re intelligent and resourceful and smart,” Bucky’s watching as the tensions slowly bleeds out of Steve. He’s fast to put up his walls, but he’s also fast to take them down. 

Steve leans forward and gives Bucky a firm kiss, sliding back down into the bed and pulling him down with him. Bucky’s still hard and finds himself grinding against Steve’s thigh mindlessly. Steve wraps his legs around Bucky and he feels himself get pulled even closer. 

He knows Steve’s body well at this point, and knows just where to touch him to make him gasp. Steve knows how to do just the same, scratching his way down Bucky’s back and curling his fingers into his hair. 

Bucky loves Steve’s body. Loves kissing his way down Steve’s chest until he reaches his belly botton. He especially loves when Steve starts giggling when he runs his fingers against Steve’s ribs right where he knows he’s ticklish.

“Stop! Stop!” Steve squeals in between gasping breaths of laugher and gently pressing up against Bucky’s chest with no real intent. “Tickling me is not sexy at all so stop it.” 

“You're always sexy to me,” Bucky throws on his cheesiest smile, like he’s trying to dazzle a handsome stranger instead of his own husband. Bucky figures there's nothing wrong with romancing Steve a little bit, they never got a proper courtship anyways, so this is better than anything. 

Steve rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling, “Don’t try to play those games with me Bucky Barnes, I see right through you.” 

“I don’t know what your talking about,” Bucky wraps his hands around Steve’s legs so he can kiss from his knee to his feet, rubbing his thumb over his bony ankle, “Games? What games?” 

“You're a real piece of work Barnes,” Steve grumbles, and he would almost think he’s serious if Steve didn’t also tug him down for a quick kiss. Steve pulls them closer together, grinding their bodies closer than Bucky honestly thought was possible. 

After, when they're both done, laying half on top of each other with the sheets slightly sticky against their skin. Steve’s nuzzling lazily against his shoulder, pressing his bony cheekbones and nose against Bucky like he’s trying to poke him. It’s a nice feeling, if not a little awkward, and Bucky makes sure to scratch at Steve’s caff with his big toe. 

Bucky’s struct with the sudden knowledge that him and Steve are going to have a baby, that they could have just made one. He’s been carefully hiding his excitement as the prospect of having a child. Something that would be entirely theirs, because he’s been determined not to frightened Steve anymore then he already seems. 

Steve's moved to lay on his back besides him, covers pulled up around his chest and eyes half closed against the slight morning light. It’s easy enough for Bucky to shift so he can settle a gentle hand against Steve’s stomach. 

“It’s not like you're going to be able to feel anything, if there’s even is anything,” Steve mumbles turning slightly to look over at Bucky with his eyelids still heavy. His smile is lazy and without the usual tightness that comes when they discuss children. 

“I know,” Bucky replies because he does understand how making a baby works, “it’s just kind of nice to think about, you know _ babies.”  _

Steve eyes open even more and he raises a single eyebrow in judgement, “ _ babies _ . Like plural.” 

“Yes, I think I wouldn’t mind having a whole brood of them,” Bucky says it just to see what kind of rise he can get out of Steve. Though he finds Steve delightful when expressing most emotions there's something practically enjoyable about him when he’s annoyed, especially when he’s more just playing at it then anything else. 

“We can have a brood when you learn how carry them around for nine months and then pushes them out of your body,” Steve grumbles before rolling over onto his belly and knocking Bucky’s hand off, “I was always told that omega’s were the ones who were supposed to go baby crazy.” 

Steve looks half asleep from where he’s face is pressed against the pillow and Bucky lazily scratched his back just the way he knows Steve likes, “you should go back to sleep.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Steve grumbles unconvincing considering he’s already half asleep. 

Bucky rolls from their bed, grabbing a pair of pants from the floor and tucking himself into them. Steve’s already completely asleep as Bucky finishes getting dressed, throwing on a warm jacket before pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s forehead. 

 

***

 

The whole point of a private study is that it’s private, which Alexander Pierce obviously doesn't understand. The only point of having a private study is so people can’t come in without making an appointment first, which means he can have some peaceful time to think. 

Peirce comes barging right in startling Bucky so much he almost jumps in his seat, “Lord Pierce, do you need something?” 

Though Bucky doesn't like to think about his father dying, it’s unavoidable to do when he’s trying to consider what type of king he’ll be. Bucky knows that when he’s king whatever power Lord Pierce posses is going to be severely lowered. No longer will he be roaming around the castle like he owns it. 

“I’ve just been informed for a little scheme that your husband has going on and I thought it was pertinent that I tell you about it,” Alexander says coming to sit across from Bucky even though he still hasn’t invited him to. 

Bucky’s almost completely sure that Alexander's talking about Steve’s plan to become the representative for Mullingar. He has almost all the votes needed, and Bucky not particularly  surprised that Steve’s plan have gotten back to Alexander. In all honestly Bucky had thought he’d hear about it earlier. 

Even though Bucky suspects Alexander already knows about Steve’s plan, if he doesn’t Bucky doesn't want to give it away, “what scheme are you talking about?” 

“Your husbands planning on running for representative for Mullingar against your father's wishes. I thought maybe you could stop him from going through with such an illogical plan,” Alexander’s voice is all to sincere though Bucky knows better than to fall for that. 

“I’m aware that he’s doing that,” Bucky says slowly waiting to see what kind of reaction he can get out of Alexander. 

“So you're happy going directly against your father, the king's, commands,” Alexander says full judgement. He has gotten good at doing things in the name of Bucky’s father. Passing his own agenda off as that more often than not. 

Bucky sets Alexander with a defiant glare, “I support Steve’s position, no matter what my father believes is best.” 

“I’m going to have to tell King George about this,” Alexander stands up from his seat very abruptly, sending the chair sliding against hardwood floors. His reaction is expected, it’s not like Bucky ever thought that Alexander came here just to warn him. It was a tests to see whose side Bucky was going to take and in Alexander's eyes he just failed. 

“Go ahead, it’s nothing he won’t know about soon enough,” Bucky says trying to keep his cool exterior just as much as Alexander is. Nobody taught him how to conceal his emotions better than Alexander. 

As soon as Alexander's gone Bucky heads out of the study and through his own chambers. Steve’s in the sitting room, Natasha and Wanda with him, looking relaxed and talking quietly. Steve gives Bucky a wide smile as he stands in the doorway. 

“Whats going on?” Steve asks smile slowly evaporating as he notices Bucky’s expression. He’s not hiding his panic very well at this point and he’s sure Steve can see it. 

“Alexander knows that you're running for representative and he’s going to tell my father,” Bucky says and watches as Steve’s face transforms from relaxed to anxious. They had thought it would be best to bring it to the council after the Spring Festival when everyone would be more happy and at peace but now it's seeming like that won’t happening. 

“So what do we have to do?” Natasha asks face completely serious. Wanda’s sitting up to now and looking over at Bucky expectantly. 

“There's a council meeting this afternoon to discuss crop trades, we can bring it up then and hope that Alexander and my father don’t talk before then, at least not long enough to make some kind of plan,” Bucky knows that if Alexander and his father have enough time to discuss what Steve’s planning then they're going to try to come up with a way to stop it.

Steve nods, “we have to keep your father distracted until the council meeting and away from Lord Peirce.” 

“He’s supposed to go into the city and talk with the City Vender Association, I’ll accompany him and make sure Alexander stays clear till then,” Bucky says, quickly heading to grab his jacket. He’s sure his father's already heading out so he doesn’t have any time to waste.

“Make sure everything's in place for the council meeting okay,” Bucky tells them in the doorway giving Steve the best reassuring smile he can muster up, “it’s all going to be fine.” 

It might not all be fine. Deep down Bucky knows how easily this could all fall apart but he’s decided to ignore that in favor of believing everything will work itself out. Steve’s prepared well for this, even if he didn’t plan on bring to the council so soon, and Bucky can’t help but believe he’ll get what he deserves. 

Bucky finds his father in the stables, already mounted onto a horse. He practically has to sprint across the courtyard to make sure his father doesn’t leave before Bucky’s going with him. 

“Wait!” Bucky calls out to his father, “I was wondering if I could come with you, I think it would be good for me to establish myself among the venders.”

“If you would like to,” his father says with a nonplussed shrug. A horse is quickly readied for him and he gets on, not even wanting to give his father a second to think over it. Bucky wants to get his father out of the castle as fast as possible. 

The head deep into the city before eventually coming upon a house with a wooden sign hanging in the front declaring is the center for venders. The follow a tall man down into the building and to what was once a basement but now acts as a gathering hall. This all wouldn’t necessarily be a safe place for a king and prince if it wasn’t for the three burly guards who accompany them. 

Any issues with the venders in unexpected, they have enough solid deals worked out that it should all go smoothly. It’s more of a check in then anything else, to make sure things going as it should.

It’s all pretty boring and a small part of Bucky wishes he didn’t have to sit through it. Most of the complains are silly and benign and could have been easily fixed if the different venders bothered to talk with each other more. 

The whole things takes hours which is the only relief, knowing he’s giving Steve what is hopefully enough time to get everything together. Bucky even does his best to slow the process down even more by asking useless questions and giving unnecessary insight. 

He sees his father set him an unimpressed look as he makes a comment to obvious he must look like a fool, “I’m afraid we're going to have to leave now, there's an important meeting we have to attend.”

Bucky shakes about a dozen hands with people before heading outside, climbing back on his horse. He can’t decide whether or not he should stall his father more though he ends up not having a choice because gets on his own horse and heads back to the castle. 

Back at the castle they head directly to the council hall, his father grumbling about how their running late. Bucky apologizes but it even to his own ears it doesn’t sound genuine. Bucky doesn't feel even a single bit bad for making his father late.

The council hall is already full, and Bucky smiles as he sees Steve sitting at the front, Natasha sitting besides him looking stoic and rigid. Bucky slides into his own seat besides Steve, giving his hand a slight comforting squeeze as he does so. 

“What is he doing here?” his father hisses as he takes his own seat. Alexanders in the room to of course, whispering now in his father's ear of what he can only assume is about Steve. 

His father turns back to look at them, “you can’t be here. Leave before you humiliate yourself in front of the council.” 

“I’m not going to humiliate myself,” Steve replies handing over a piece of paper to Bucky’s father, “here’s a list of signatures from district representative and foreign delegates which are enough to place my as delegate of Mullingar.” 

Bucky watches his father inspect the list carefully with alexander looking over his shoulder to read over the list. Alexander sets steve with a displeasing look, “if these names are legitimate then you won’t mind us bringing it to a vote.” 

“Go ahead,” Steve says looking nonplussed though Bucky can tell that he’s nervous that this won’t all go through. That a public vote could make some anxious and pull out last minute. 

“You can stop this James, you're his alpha, just tell him to call all this foolishness off,” his father urges. 

“I don’t want to stop him. I support Steve completely in his decision, “ Bucky turns away from his father not wanting to see his angry expression. Bucky doesn't care what his father believes up about all of this, Bucky knows that the only right thing to do is support steve. 

Steve stands up besides, fingers gripping the rim of the table in front of him. His legs look a little shaky under him but there's a confident set to his shoulders, “I was hoping to bring my pension for becoming diplomatic representative for Mullingar to a vote today.” 

The room grows quiet after a moment, everyone turning to look over at them. He can see some people looking confused which much means they were never even approached by steve. 

Slowly his father calls out the name of each country then each province, the whole room listening as each one calls out either their support or unsupport for steve. At first it looks bad, going through the eastern countries leads to a lot of votes against him but it's when they get to the Vale countries when finally things begin to look up. 

Beside him he can tell his father's growing increasingly angry even if he does a good job at hiding it. Alexander does nothing to hide his anger and he votes against Steve’s proposition proudly and with venom in his voice. 

He feels relief when Steve gets enough votes and then pride when he gets even more than the required votes. The biggest relief is when it’s all over, all the votes are in and Steve’s finally getting what he deserves. 

Bucky jolts when he feels an unexpected grip on his arm and look up to find his father glaring at him, “get up, the both of you. We need to talk about what just happened.” 

He and Steve follow his father all the way to the royal library across the castle. Alexanders with them to and Bucky wants to block the door to not let him in. He shouldn’t be in here, this was a place where he wasn’t meant to get into. 

Bucky’s too busy worrying over Alexander that he’s not at all prepared for his father to slap Steve straight across the face. Steve cries out and Bucky’s not sure if it’s in surprise or in hurts though he suspects a little of both. He’s gripping his cheek, staring at George is shock. 

“What the fuck was that!” Bucky’s never swore at his father before but now seems like an appropriate time to do it. 

“He plotted behind all of our backs and went against my direct orders, you both betrayed me,” his father snaps, “I told you to keep him in line and instead you let him play you like a fool.” 

Bucky wishes he could slap his father, “you're the one who's being played like a fool. You do everything that Peirce says like you don’t even have a mind of your own anymore.” 

“You both committed an act of treason, you shouldn’t be throwing around accusations,” Alexander replies looking far to calm for this situation. All the appreciation he once held for him for getting his arm has been completely wiped away and all he’s left with is hatred. 

“That was my lawful right not an act of treason!” Steve's cheek is bright red at this point and Bucky’s beginning to think it might bruise. He doesn't want to ever see another bruise on Steve.

“I’m done with all of this,” Bucky’s so tired of Alexander's scheming and his father falling for it, “after the Spring Festival me and Steve are taking a long trip, somewhere warm and away from all of this.” 

He takes Steve’s hand and leads him out of their room, not even wanting to look at his father for a long time. The first thing he does once he’s back into their room is pull Steve into a tight hug, rocking them both back and forth. 

Bucky pulls back only enough to get a good look at Steve’s face, “are you okay.” 

Steve nods while wrapping his own fingers around Bucky's wrist, “I’m okay Buck. It doesn't even hurt that much.” 

“You did it Stevie,” Bucky grins and presse his forehead against Steve, “you got the votes, you did it.” 

“I can’t believe it,” Steve’s grin is as big as Bucky’s and his enthusiasm is contagious. Even though steve just got slapped he’s still grinning wide and Bucky think to do anything but kiss Steve. He only pulls away when Steve makes a wounded noise as Bucky touches his cheek. 

Bucky inspects in gently, “let me ask a maid to get some ice for that.” 

He rings quickly for one of the maids as Steve heads into their bedroom, sitting down on their bed and taking his shoes off. A maid brings him a piece of ice wrapped in a cloth which he quickly hands over to Steve. 

“We needs to get away from here for a while,” Bucky says sitting down next to Steve with a heavy sigh, “I can’t believe he did that to you.” 

“Let's go somewhere warm and quiet,” Steve says with a soft smile, “maybe Antlegrad. You said your family has a house there or something? That would be nice.” 

Bucky finds himself grinning wide at the suggesting, sitting down on the bed besides Steve, “or we could go to the ocean? Natasha told me you’ve never been before.” 

Steve’s eyes seem to almost sparkle at the suggestion, “the ocean sounds wonderful.”

 

***

 

Bucky can’t wait for the Spring Festival to be over and done with. As a kid he always enjoyed it, the abundance of sweets the filled the castle and the fun dances but now after being part of the planning he couldn’t be more over it all. Bucky can’t put even another hour of work into it out he’ll go crazy. 

He’s also looking forward to leaving the palace for a while. Him and Steve have already made plans to leave the morning after the festival for the west where his family has a house on the bay. It’ll be warmer there and quite which are both things Bucky’s looking forward to. 

Steve’s begun calling their trip their ‘makeshift honeymoon’ but Bucky thought of it more as the beginning of what could end up being a long lasting tradition. It was easy for him to imagine years in the future spending their days in a wonderful house by the beach, taking long walks and wading into the water. 

He lets himself get consumed by those thoughts whenever he had to deal with his father or Alexander. They were both still furious over what had happened and took their anger at in subtle ways, mostly by ignoring him. Not that they ever cared much about his opinion anyways. 

Bucky gets dressed in the customary bright colors for the spring festival. The bright yellow Steve’s wearing make him look like he sun, golden thread lining his outfit. Bucky feels dim in comparison, pulling one gloves at the last second to cover his metal hand. 

“You looked great doll,” Bucky braces his hands against Steve’s waist so he can lean back and admire him. 

Steve grins pressing his hand up against bucky’s chest, “you don’t look to bad yourself.” 

“Well there's a compliment,” Bucky says with a life. He knows that Steve finds him attractive, Steve showed him just how attractive he finds him this morning. Bucky always pleased to hear it out loud, mostly because he finds Steve so attractive in return. 

“I know just how to flatter you,” Steve teases, fixing the the collar of his shirt. The outfits a little too big on Steve, not enough to be blatantly noticeable but enough that's he’s sure Steve feels a little uncomfortable. 

Bucky leans forward just enough to give Steve a light kiss, “tomorrow we get to leave, get to finally spend some time just the two of us.” 

“Just the two of us sounds really nice,” Steve jets up on his tippy toes so he can press a quick kiss to the corner of Bucky mouth, “I love you, like a whole bunch.” 

“I love you like a whole bunch too,” Bucky can’t help but laugh as he says it feeling a little silly. Sometimes Bucky wishes he could go back in time and asked to marry Steve himself so he could court him properly. 

“We should probably get a move on,” Steve says taking Bucky’s hand in his, “your mom's already mad that I’ve been showing up to her meetings late, she’ll be furious if we’re late to the real thing.” 

The Spring Festival goes on the whole day and well into the night. They’d already been to town earlier, visited the carnival that lined the streets and even did a few games. Bucky had won Steve a hairpin at one of the games, which Steve had happily put in his hair not that it did anything. 

They ate a brief dinner before getting dressed for the party that would take place in the palace. It would be a grand celebration with lords and lady’s from all over the country traveling to attend. Bucky knows hours of work had gone into the planning and execution of the party. 

Beautiful decorations fill the whole room and everyone's dressed in their very best. At once Steve breaks away from him to go talk to Peter, who Steve invited even though the kid looks slightly panicked. Bucky leaves him to do that and goes over to stand by Natasha and Clint. 

“Wanna go for a dance,” Bucky holds and a hand for Natasha which she accepts within a second. They weave themselves in amongst the other dancers easily, like most of the spring dances it’s simple enough were one can jump in at any moment. 

“You and Steve doing alright?” Natasha asks the question like she’s only vaguely interested and not like she doesn’t talk to Steve almost every single day. 

Bucky can’t help but laugh, “we're doing good. I imagine you know that just as well as I do considering you talk with Steve every single day.”

“You're right,” she gives him a sharp grin that's so very Natasha, “not even that long ago he didn’t even know what to do with him.”

“Things change,” it feels like a lifetime ago when he didn’t love Steve, didn’t even like Steve at all. Bucky had convinced himself that he was going to be stuck in some horrible marriage but instead he’s found himself happier than he’s been in a long time, maybe ever. 

“He’s happy and that's all I care about,” this is surprisingly honest for Natasha which catches Bucky slightly off guard. She tends to hide her feels behind a ten foot wall and he’s surprised to hear clear affection for Steve coming from her. 

“Me too,” Bucky says with a smile. 

The dance comes to an end and Bucky hands Natasha over to Clint who spins her until Bucky figures they must both be dizzy. Bucky dances with a few other people, including his sister who he thinks might purposely step on his toes. 

He stands off to the side and watches as Steve and Peter awkwardly bumble around the dance floor. The spring dances are on the easier side but still uptight compared to the ones in Mullingar or the ones practiced outside the court which mean they both lack the skill. 

Bucky’s found himself tired from a long day and he’s starting to wonder how angry his mother would be if him and steve skipped out early. He figures they’ve put enough time into the planning to count for something. 

He pulls Steve to the side of the dance floor, his cheeks are flush from dancing and he gives him a bright smile, “you enjoying the party Buck?” 

“It’s really nice,” Bucky murmurs looking to make sure his mother isn’t to close but before leaning down to talk so only Steve can hear, “you want to get out of here a little earlier?” 

“Yes!” Steve gives him a wide grin as he curls their hands together, “I have lots of packing to do if we're going to leave tomorrow morning.” 

He’s just about to pull Steve out of the hall behind him when Peggy Carter approaches them. She’s one of the last people Bucky wants to talk with right now, he’s been clearly avoiding her. He’d been fine when Steve has stiffly danced with her but he certainly didn’t feel the need to talk with her. 

“Prince James, I was hoping to talk with you,” Peggy smile is tight and Bucky wishes he was still a child so he could just run away from all of this and not have to give a reason. Steve’s giving both of them a worried tight look. 

Bucky nods and says “alright,” mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say. 

“Do you want me too…” Steve trails off still looking anxious and tense and clearly asking if Bucky wants him to stay. He shakes his head only because he doesn’t want Steve to see when he gets uncontrollably furious at her. 

Steve sends Bucky a worried look but walks away anyways. They’ve talked a little about what Peggy said, definitely not as much as they should because they just wanted to put it behind them. 

“What do you want,” Bucky snaps, moving even more off the the side so no one overhears their conversation. He can’t imagine any good gossip coming out of it. 

“I was hoping to clear the air I suppose,” it's the most unsure he’s ever seen Peggy, “I imagine you're still really unhappy about what I told Steve.” 

Bucky finds himself rolling his eyes at Peggy's more than careful framing, “I’m more then unhappy, I’m furious but not about you telling Steve that you love him,” his voice drops to make sure no one overhears, “I’m mad that you asked Steve to leave me.” 

He can tell Peggy feels particularly shameful about the last bit because she suddenly refused to meet her gaze and he doubts the floor has suddenly gotten any more interesting, “I know I shouldn’t have said it, even as I was speaking I wished I could take the words back.” 

“I warned you against all this, at the beginning when Steve got sick,” he’s sure she remembers that night as vividly as he does, mostly he remembers how his body had been rigid with anger and not much different from how he feels now. 

Bucky had warned Peggy against falling for Steve and from hurting him anymore. She hadn’t listen and he can’t blame her for her feelings, knowing how uncontrollable those can be but he can blame her for telling Steve and all the other things she said with it. 

“I know you did, and I made a mistake when I let my feelings confuse me” Peggy concedes after a long moment of silence, “I just was hoping we could be freinds again, for Steve sake if nothing else.” 

“You can be friends with Steve  _ for Steve’s sake, _ ” Bucky hisses at her trying to do everything to keep his anger at bay, “I can’t imagine we’ll be friends anytime soon. Even if I wanted to I just can’t.” 

Bucky’s dislike for Peggy has become an uncontrollable, so even if he wanted to be friends with her in some form he thinks he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. 

Peggy gives him a tight smile and bows slightly as she takes a step back, “I suppose I should say goodnight. I hope you and Steve enjoy your trip, I heard the seaside wonderful this time of year.” 

He thanks her merely out of politeness and exits the ballroom, not wanting to spend anymore time there. Bucky decides to take the long way back to the ballroom in an attempt to give himself time to cool off, wandering through empty hallways and others bustling wither servants, guards and party goers. 

The lights in the sitting room on when he enters and he surprised when Cap scurries out from under the rm chair. Typically she tries to follow Steve around wherever he goes and Bucky’s surprised to see her hiding. She meows loudly at him and he picks her up in an attempt to keep her quiet. 

“Stevie tell your cat to shut up!” Bucky yells as he scratches behind Caps ear as she meows loudly again, “how does so much noise come out of such a little body.” 

The scene he finds in the bedroom is not at all what he expected. It’s a mess to say the least and not all how Bucky remembers leaving it only a few hours before. Steve’s night stand has been tipped over, with the lamp and his sketch pad both laying on the ground. The quilt that always resides on their end of their bed and was made by Steve’s ma rests on the floor in a heap. 

Out of everything the most noticeable thing is how Steve's dresser every single drawer is open with clothes scattered across the floor below it. The only reason why bucky could imagine someone doing such a thing is if they were looking for something. 

“Steve?” Bucky calls out voice timid, he doesn’t really know why he calls out because he already knows that their rooms empty and they’ll be no reply. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow i can't believe its been so long since i last updated! i've been very busy with my senior year and apply to colleges but i'm hoping now that most of my applications are done i'll have more free time. I still plan on finishing this, and my goal is before 2018 to have this finished. thank you to everyone whose stuck with this through my hiatus. i've changed the amount of chapter from 22 to 21, nothing has changed and the ending will still remain the same just i've combined some parts. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	19. Chapter 19

  
  


 

Steve walks into his bedroom but comes to a halt when he spots Brock Rumlow rifling through his dresser. The rooms a mess, things tipped over and laying all over the floor like a storm just came through. 

“You can’t be in here,” the words come tumbling out of Steve’s mouth, mostly because he’s too alarmed to say anything else. Brock stands from where he’s been crouching and looking through the bottom drawer of the dresser and Steve’s suddenly hit with the realization that Brock so much bigger than him. 

Brocks holding something in his hands and it takes Steve a minute to realise what it is, the front of the large book, slightly blocked by Brocks large arm. It’s Dr. eckstein's book,  _ A Brief History of Magic from the Vale _ , a gift he promised to keep safe. 

Steve’s takes a careful step back and tries to keep his gaze strong, “that book isn’t yours. Leave and we can pretend this never happened.” 

He hates the look Brocks giving him like he just said he silliest thing in the world, like he really is just a stupid little omega. Steve does his best not to flinch as Brock grins at him, “I should have known you’d have the book. You were erskine's last student, his strongest,Ii should have know he would have given it to you.” 

“Why do you need the book?” Steve can’t help but ask, trying to keep Brock occupied long enough for him to figure out how to get out of this situation. Though he’s never been good at levitation spells he’s hoping he’ll be able to use one of the books laying on the floor and knock brock out. 

“It's the key to fulfilling hydra’s plan,” brock says setting him with an unimpressed look as steve throws nearly all his contrition into levitating one of the books, “you think i didn’t account for your magic, a charms already been placed on the room. 

Steve hadn’t felt hopeless till then, wondering desperately were the guards who actually stationed outside the door are. He can only think that brock's been planning this break in for a long time. 

Brock may be bulkier than Steve but when he bolts brock catches him easily. He goes down falling on his hands and knees with Brock falling nearly right on top of him and practically squishing Steve under his weight. He tries to recall everything and he slams the palm up his hand up into Brock's nose. 

It makes a pitiful cracking noise and Brock roars out in pain. His alpha pheromones are overpowering as he grabs Steve’s thin wrist and pushes it to the cold floor. Steve does his best to kick up into Brock, who anticipates his movement and slides down just low enough to block his legs from moving.

Never during his training he’s ever fought someone as large as Brock. Natasha smart and more skilled than Brock, whose movements are clunky and violent without knowledge of what he’s really doing. He easily weighs twice as much as Steve and that alone is a big enough edge. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this!” Steve tries to throw a punch hit Brock grabs his arm. There's tears building up in the corner of his eyes and he does his best to hold them in, he knows the last thing he wants is for Brock to see him cry. 

“You were supposed to be mine,” Brock growls out throwing Steve arms above his head, “Alexander promised you to me.” 

Brock sounds crazed and possessed and Steve has no idea what he’s talking about but Steve know he doesn't like it. Steve makes a last ditch attempt to fight broke off but he can’t say he’s uninspired when it doesn’t work. 

Both of his wrist are pressed together in one of Brock's large hands as the other ones holds a cloth up to his face, covering his nose and mouth. Steve puts all of his little energy left into trying to wiggle from his grip, head twisting back and forth. He’s so incredibly tired but he tries to keep his mind alert. 

“Go to sleep now little omega,” Brock hisses as Steve’s eyes go heavy and his room fades away around him. 

 

***

 

Steve wakes up and he’s freezing cold. His eyes open slowly, nearly crusted closed. He’s laying down on his back, limbs painfully stiff. He’s in a small room though it’s not as bad as what he’d expect from a room one would wake up from after being knocked unconscious. 

He slowly struggles to sit only to find one of his hands cuffed to the frame of the bed. The cuff is no ordinary one but instead a suppressor bracelet. The rooms doesn't have any windows and it’s freezing cold which leads Steve to think that he's probably underground somewhere. 

All together it’s nicer than a prison cell. The beds not horribly uncomfortable and there's a few thick old woollen blankets on it, though he’s been placed on top of them so their not doing much good. There's a small rickety table beside the bed and pressed up against the wall a desk with a three legged chair and a lamp casting a dull glow around the room. 

Steve knows this all could have been much worse, he could be laying on the hard floor in some damp dark prison cell or already dead with his body dropped in a ditch. 

The door opens with a loud creak to reveal Alexander Pierce who's wearing much fiber cloths then seem appropriate for this little room. Steve can only guess that he just came from the castle, probably from a meeting with King George himself. 

“I’m so glad to see your awake,” Alexander takes a seat on the edge of the bed and Steve resists the urge to go out and kick him, “we all were beginning to get concerned.” 

“How long have I been here,” Steve sits up fully against the metal headboard of the bed which digs into his back painfully. He’s still dressed in his clothes from the spring festival though they look a little destroyed from his scuffle with Brock. 

“You’ve been here a while,” Peirce says passively which could mean mere hours or possibly days, “Brocks treatment was a little rougher than we originally planned, I was concerned he might have done something irreversible.” 

Pierce actually sounds a little sorry for how Brock treated him though Steve’s aware that he’s great at manipulating and could easily be faking the reaction. Still some part of him sounds like he’s sincerely sorry. 

Steve watches Peirce for any sign of what he’s thinking, “what do you want from me, what am I doing here?” 

“This is where you were always supposed to be Steven, before George decided he wanted you,” Alexander says sounding far to earnest, “you were supposed to be my husband, not James.” 

“Brock said the exact same thing,” Steve doesn’t even understand why that has anything to do with why they took him. It’s not like one of them could marry him anyways, a bond would be impossible unless his bond with Bucky gets severed first. 

Alexander makes a long suffering sigh, “I had to tell him that to make sure he took you out of Mullingar and brought to Yoshkar. From then on I would tell him I’d write my will making him my single inheritor if he gave you over to me which he would have done without a second thought.” 

“What do you want from me?” Steve’s voice is nowhere near as strong as he wants it to be but the idea of being married to Alexander or Brock terrifies him. 

“If I had you as my husband no one could dispute my claim over Mullingar and I’d have Yoshkar biggest avenue of trade,” Peirce explains, “and your magic will bring me the army I need to make Yoshkar mine. Raise hydra from the ashes.” 

Steve knows about hydra from what Bucky told him, how they had tortured him and took his arm. He knows he’s never going to do anything to help hydra even if he means he gets tortured in return. Steve decides that for now it might be best that Pierce doesn’t his plans not to cooperate. 

He struggles for something else to say before his thoughts eventually drift back to eckstein's book, “Brock took a book from me, I want that back. It was a gift and it belongs to me.” 

“The books still yours and it’ll be returned to you very soon,” Pierce promises and Steve’s surprised he’s caving in so quickly, “that books more powerful than you could have ever know, especially if you have the key to it.” 

Alexanders holding out a necklace, there's a big metal circle on it and in the middle of that a bright red jewel. The whole thing looks expensive but old, the metal circle looks to have once had words on it but they’ve long since faded into something unreadable.

“We took this from your precious teacher a long time ago,” the necklace gets passed to Steve who holds it out as far from his body as possible, “it will be good for it to be back with the owner of the book.” 

Steve always knew Erskine wasn’t from Mullingar, or any of the vale countries for that matter, and a small part of him has always thought erskine was running from something. Now he understands from what, from whom. 

He inspects the necklace closely, “what does it do?” 

Erskine never mentioned anything about a necklace to go along with the book though at the time they hadn’t really be able to talk about it. Maybe he’d thought he’d never see the necklace again anyways so it hadn’t even mattered.

“It’ll show you the real spells that book is harboring, I’ll go get it you just stay right here,” Peirce says sounding a little nonsensical and completely ignoring the fact that Steve’s still half chained to the bed and couldn’t move anyways. 

As soon as Alexander's out of the room Steve lets out a breath that he didn’t even know he’d been holding. He drops the necklace down onto the bed and fishes into his shirt for a pendant which he clutches in his hand as tight as he can. Almost immediately a warmth runs through him and the relief of knowing that Bucky’s okay, and knows he’s okay in return. 

Steve knows he should start forming some sort of escape plan. There's only a single door and no windows and he doesn't even know where they are or how far away from the castle. For all Steve knows they could be in forest miles away from any other people. 

When Pierce comes back into the room, carrying the book in hand, Steve quickly shoves the pendant back under his shirt. Alexander knows what the pendant does and Steve’s sure he’d take it away if he knew Steve was still wearing it. Honestly he’s surprised it hasn’t already been taken, it just means whoever searched him for weapons didn’t know what it is. 

The books set down on the bed and Alexander grabs the pendant from the bed as he flips to a random page, “I’m excited to finally be able to see all of this in action.” 

Alexander moves the necklace so the red jewel is facing the open page. Steve not at all prepared for new text to appear on the page, replacing the usual words. Pierce flips to a new page a repeats the process, new words once again appearing on the page. 

Steve wishes he was alone so he could study it fully in private, without Peirce staring at him like he’s carefully waiting for whatever reaction Steve might have. He tries to keep his emotions carefully schooled, not give Alexander anything. 

“There's a resurrection spell somewhere within this book,”Alexander says once again anding the necklace over, “your going to find it, then you're going to learn it and then cast to rise hydra up.” 

“No!” Steve recioles at the very notion of helping hydra, “I won’t. You can torture me as much as you want but I won’t help you.”

Pierce sighs like Steve’s words are the biggest inconvenience to him in the entire world and maybe they are but at the same time they can’t be that unexpected. Pierce knows that hydra hurt Bucky, not just because he’s part of it but because he built the arm and knows how they tortured it off of him. 

“Despite what people think omega’s have much higher pain tolerance then alpha’s,” Peirce begins and Steve doesn’t like the direction this is heading, “your smart Steve, I know you’ve been digging around looking for that spell placed on James.” 

Steve shakes his head hating that he didn't realise that Alexander would have something so terrible to use against him, “no, please don’t.” 

“I have the trigger words,” Alexander smiles at him cruel and lifeless, “what do you think would happen to him if he killed his mother or one of those motley friends he’s always hanging around? I imagine he’d go pretty crazy, especially without you there.” 

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Steve begs words rushing together in panic, “please, just don’t hurt Bucky.” 

Alexander smiles and pats his knee like he’s a puppy that just learned to sit, “that's the kind of cooperation I like to here.” 

He leaves Steve alone in the room, and he can hear the lock click. With nothing else to do Steve finds himself looking through the book, his curiosity making it impossible to simply ignore the book. 

Steve fishes his pendant from where it’s been hiding under his shirt, hoping that Bucky’s okay. Though he never wanted to simply be a damsel in distress Steve prays that Bucky can find him and together they can bring and end to Peirce's plan. 

 

***

 

Steve’s not sure how much time passes. There's no window which means he has no concept of day or night and food seems to arrive at seemingly random times. Alexander comes in and out of the room to see his progress, other times Alexander sends in Brock to harass him more then gain information about his progress. 

It all gets worse when Steve starts getting sick, throwing up nearly every day mostly in the morning. He can hardly keep breakfast down, throwing up in the little bathroom sink in the corner of the room. 

It's been going on for what Steve thinks must be a week when Alexander finally comes in to talk to him about it. He brings Zola with him who's apparently a doctor not that Steve wants him touching any part of his body. 

“The guards say you’ve been sick of the last few days,” Alexander's comments coming to sit in the small desk chair. Steve wasn’t aware there was guards outside which is just one more thing to take into account when planning his escape. 

Steve shrugs, “I haven’t been feeling great.” 

“Lay down on the bed, I need to give you an exam,” Zola says motioning for Steve to come lay in the bed. He does is though keeps his body rigid and flat and as far away from Zola as possible. 

Zola runs his hands down Steve's body, carefully flowing magic into his system. It feels different then when doctor Banner did it, even though he’s used the exact same movements. 

His hands come to a stop at Steve's abdomen, pressing down gently and takes all of Steve’s self control not to shy away. Zola makes a low humming noise as though he’s suddenly realising something very interesting. 

“He’s pregnant,” Zola says turning to look at Alexander like Steve isn’t even there, “sickness is common with pregnancy. It is nothing to be concerned over.” 

“I’m having a baby,” Steve’s voice is nearly silent, shock running through him. It’s not like he didn’t know this wasn’t an option. Some part of him even sort of wanted it, before he was taken of course. 

He’s not expecting at all for Alexander to break out a smile, “the future Barnes king or queen. We’ll raise them together Steven, and once hydra rises they’ll be crowned in Yoshkar. It’ll be easy for people to accept another Barnes.” 

Shock melts away into white hot terror, wrapping his hands protectively around his abdomen. Steve knows for a fact that he won’t be raising a child with anyone but Bucky, and certainly not Alexander. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do to stop it but he knows he must. 

Zola gives him some vitamins to take and Steve’s only takes him because he knows Alexander holds no in interest in hurting his baby so they won’t be poisoned. At least he won’t have to worry about Pierce trying to kill it before it’s even born. 

He isn’t asked if he found the spell which is a relief because he’s not sure what he would tell Alexander. Steve has found the spell, but he hasn’t figured out what he’s going to do about it. 

That night while going through Erskine’s book he comes across something new. A destruction spell, containing many of the same materials needed for the resurrection spells. Powerful spells tend to be similar which is why it’s not all that uncommon for a mage to mess them up, and must be practiced many times before the official casting. 

It’s then that Steve realises he might actually get a chance to destroy hydra. 

 

***

 

He doesn't even know when he starts but at some point he begins talking to the baby. 

Steve spends most of these days alone, there's a guard outside but they don’t talk with him and besides the visits from Zola, or occasionally Peirce of Rumlow, Steve spends his time in solitude. It’s not so bad at first but as the days wear on he can feel the loneliness setting in and baby make it feel as though he’s not just rambling on to himself. 

The ingredients for the spell are all here, Zola had checked the spell himself. Steve’s lucky that most of the same ingredients are used for the resurrection and destroying spell, and Zola didn’t check close enough to notice when Steve was asking for extra things. 

Everyday he’s begun placing a protection spell upon himself. Steve doesn’t think he’ll survive the effects of the spell, while mages can be more resistant to the effects of spells, especially the caster, he’s not naive enough to think he’ll make it through such a powerful spell. He has strong magic, but not enough to protect him from this. 

The spells for the baby, a silly hope that maybe they can survive this. All Steve knows is that he can’t just do nothing, has to at least try to protect his baby. He read once about a woman who used a protection spell and was able to keep her body preserved for months even after being injured. She had died after the baby was born, but at least his baby was okay. 

Steve and Bucky hadn’t talked nearly enough about having kids. It was mostly because of Steve’s own resistance and now he’s cursing his name, wishing he could go back in time. 

One thing Bucky promised was they they could give their baby a Vale name, even if that baby was an alpha and the next heir. He spends time when he’s not working on his spell brainstorming names, thinking back to people he used to know in the Vale or novels he read. 

He doesn’t know the gender of the baby, he knows it’s a spell that some experienced mages can perform but he doesn't even know where to begin with a spell like that. Steve’s decided it’s a girl though, mother's intuition or something like that. 

He writes Nora Sarah Barnes in the corner of the front page of the spell book in a hope that maybe Bucky will get it back and know the name Steve chose for their baby. If everything goes wrong at least they’ll be some record left of his love for them. 

Steve’s a little struck by the strangeness of it all, that he already loves this little person who he hasn’t met. He was terrified by the idea of having a baby but now he’s even more worried about losing them. 

There's a quick knock on the door but whoevers on the other side doesn’t even wait for Steve to welcome them in. He’s not surprised when it's Alexander at the door because he seems to have little respect of Steve’s space. 

“I’ve brought you new vitamins from Dr. Zola,” there's a new jar of little vitamins which Alexander sets upon Steve’s desk. He’s not worried about being poisoned, Alexander needs his brain at least for now. Theirs submission spells that Alexander could try to cast on him by transferring them through food is a difficult task and therefore unlikely. 

“Thanks,” Steve says with little meaning behind his words. Thankful is one of the least things he’s feeling right now. 

Alexander walks through his room, flipping through his book and all the notes he’s taken, “when do you think you’ll be ready to cast the spell?” 

“Soon, it’s complicated and not something that can be rushed,” Steve snaps back, wanting to yank his books back. He hides his notes on the destruction spell under his mattress, having a feeling someone would come in and search through his stuff. 

Alexander gives him a disappointed sigh, like his tutors used to do when he never finished his work, “I’ve been lenient with you Steve, I haven’t rushed you, haven’t sent someone to check on you every hour. I expect you to be making more reasonable progress.” 

Non mages always think magic is something that can be just rushed though. Magic is a delicate thing and one wrong move can make everything go wrong, it’s a fickle thing that needs proper time to learn and practice. 

“If you rush me I can’t guarantee the outcome,” Steve warns.

“You have until tomorrow night, if you don’t want me to make James rip his sister's throat out with his arm you’ll be ready,” Alexander snaps before hurrying out of the room and slamming the door hard behind him. 

Steve had to stop his hands from shaking at Alexander's words, now how truthful they are. He finds it all suspicious that Alexander's now in such a hurry, he’s shown no signs of wanted to rush things along before. 

He can only think the Alexanders feeling anxious about his plan though Steve doesn’t know why now. 

Out from the bottom of his mattress he fishes out his notes. He’s basically prepared, he’s been working slower than necessary trying to put it off. He’s been trying to do everything but completely stop to slow the process down. 

He’s not ready for whatever is about to happen but now it seems like he doesn’t have much choice in the matter now. 

 

*** 

 

An hour before he knows they're coming to collect him Steve cast the protection spell over himself. It makes him feel light headed and he has to lean against his desk to keep himself from tipping right over. 

He settles in the desk chair, opening up Erskine's book and taking finial notes for the spell. Steve then settles careful in bed trying to get a few minutes of rest before heading out, trying to settle his head. 

The hour passes slowly when he finds himself unable to sleep and still feeling dizzier than he would like. Steve runs his fingers over his stomach, knowing he won’t feel anything but imagining he could. 

The door opens to reveal Brock Rumlow, wearing his nicest clothes. Steve almost wants to laugh, Brock wearing his best clothes for his early execution. He must smile because Brock sets him with a suspicious look. 

“What the hell are you smiling about,” Brock snaps grabbing Steve’s upper arm and pulling him from the bed. Steve collects his papers and notes before finally lifting Dr. Erskine book into his arms. 

“Nothing,” Steve snaps back, trying to pull his arm out of Brock's harsh crip. 

“Stupid omega bitch,” Brock grumbles at him clearly feeling extra benevolent because he practically throws Steve out of his room.  He drags his down the hallways, walking much faster than Steve’s own legs can carry him so he ends up just getting dragged behind him. 

He’s taken down long winding flights of stairs, the air becoming increasingly cold. Steve had already selected the room he had been kept in wat underground since there was no windows and it was unusually cold for season. Some basement dwelling like Steve knew were under many shops and houses. 

Now Steve can not understand how they’ve traveled so deep into the earth. The stairs they walk down are simply diet with stones laid on top and Brock holds an oil lamp in his hand to cast the stairway into damp light. 

As they continue down a light begins to appear, it’s artificial like the oil lamp so Steve knows he hasn’t gotten confused enough and their suddenly heading towards sunlight. Instead the light grows brighter as they approach until their in a large chamber, and Steve finds himself unable to hold in the gasp at the sight around him. 

The walls are dirt with long shelf within them which are filled completely with bones. Not just any bones but human ones, mostly skulls line the walls but he sees rib, arm and leg bones too. 

Steve knows it’s a catacomb, he remembers once seeing an illustration of them in one of his mother's books. He doesn’t understand what their doing down in here now, in this cold damp cave. 

There's several people down there with them besides Alexander and Brock, that Steve doesn’t recognize. He assumes other members of hydra, ambiguous shapes standing around the room. 

“It was James’s grandmother that made this place, she was from the vale just like you,” Alexander says slowly approaching Steve, “she had believed hydra had been crushed and believed that hydra’s soldiers didn’t deserve to be buried in a normal graveyard.” 

Alexander seems calm and Steve reminded of the fact that he is a politician, never simply a real person. Steve remembers in history learning about the uprisings, how hydra had blazed through the north and killed everything that refused to bow down. They’d be insurgents off them since, like the resolution bucky had fought against, though hydra often wore another name. 

Alexander makes a large sweeping gesture, “she created all of this, right under the capitals feet. All our soldiers right under everyone's feet, ready to rise again.” 

“This is wrong,” Steve hisses, anger running through him, “nothing ever comes from raising the dead, everyone knows that.” 

“You're fulfill your purpose and I’ll let your baby live, refuse and I’ll rip your baby from your stomach this instant,” Alexander says and Brock shoves him father, deeper into the catacombs. 

Steve couldn’t go down a thought a little fight, can’t just let himself full down. The protection spell is humming through him as he sets his books down on the ground, opening it to the right page. He fishes the necklace out his pocket and holds it towards the book. 

Someone's already brought all the supplies Steve said he needed for the spell. It’s lines up carefully in front of him, everything it little ceramic jars. He fishes out the first spice that he needs and begins the spell. 

He knows it working when his hands start to glow and his voice seems to simply be floating out of him. There's things going on around him, loud noises and people screaming but it all feels very distant from him. Someone seems to be grabbing at him but he shoulder but them off with little difficulty. 

Steve pulls his book closer, determined to finish the spell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! its been a long time since i posted a chapter. i know originally i said i was going to finish this by the new year but clearly that didn't happen. Its my senior year of high school so i haven't had as much free time as i would like to write. I promise i will finish this fic, i definitely haven't abandoned it. the next chapter is almost done so i'm hoping to finish this by the beginning of may. only two more chapters to go! 
> 
> hope you enjoyed this chapter, kudos and comments are always appreciated!! 
> 
> up next: Bucky goes searching for steve with some unlikely people

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, I'll probably be updating about every week though depending on fast I can write it may be faster then that. Sorry for any spelling or grammar issues, those are not my strong suit. Comments, kudos and critics are always welcomed!


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